Crash Into Me
by UnspokenDefinities
Summary: Arya Stark's freedom is threatened when her parents agreed to forge a political alliance with another powerful house in the form of an arranged marriage with the Crown Prince. She despised the idea of being reduced to a mere commodity by fulfilling her duty as a lady and eventually a wife. But most of all, she hated the stupid, loathsome, arrogant, handsome, irresistible prince.
1. Chapter 1

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 1: Waking**

**Arya**

The first rays of the sun bathed Arya's skin as they peered through the open windows of her bedchamber. She could feel its heat seeping through her face then to her eyes causing them to finally flutter open.

It took a lot of willpower for her to decide to get up from bed as she continued to wrestle with her sheets, her lazy eyes threatening to close and claim some more sleep. She would have preferred staying in her featherbed a little longer, but she was well aware of its impossibility considering her duties as a highborn lady.

For some unknown reason, her thoughts suddenly drifted to those rare and random conversations she had with her father, most especially those that involved marriage prospects. It would be her name day soon, and she knew she would be having another one of those talks with him about getting her to accept that she would be wed to some lord someday.

She cringed at the thought, strengthening her resolve to stay in bed for the rest of her life than face the inevitable.

But then again, she had to consider the fact that aside from her favorite brother, Jon, it was her father who understood her much more than her mother and her other siblings. Lord Eddard knew that Arya was always the wild, stubborn, and free-spirited child in their family, so she knew not to take her talks with her father lightly.

She heaved a deep sigh as she sat up on her bed, dangling her bare legs just above the cold floor. The excitement of a new day died down the moment reality came sinking in—the reality of needlework, continuous lady lessons and social graces with her septa, her perfect sweet sister, Sansa, and the rest of the other ladies in the castle.

_Seven hells_.

She would pick history and language lessons with Maester Luwin over lady lessons any day since she found history and learning languages more interesting than perfecting how to act proper in front of everyone else. She was never the type who would pretend to be someone else just for the sake of everyone's approval. She never needed validation from other people, anyway.

Arya was entirely her own.

It was never her dream to become a lady, much less become a wife.

It was always swordfighting, and riding horses, and reading all those interesting books in the library for her, and not mastering the art of prancing around the castle like a simpering fool.

She despised how a woman was being treated as nothing but mere commodities in their time, child-bearers and simple housewives, and never a woman who had her own decisions.

Perhaps the only consolation she could see for now was how she had not flowered yet despite her age of seven-and-ten. She never did look forward to her first flowering, using what little freedom she still had to turn down potential prospects and savor the last moments of her childhood without the inconvenience of subtle political alliances masking as betrothals.

Finally standing up, she stretched her arms before removing her white cotton nightgown in the process. She changed into her favorite white tunic and brown breeches stolen from Bran's closet some time ago. She did her usual morning ablutions before finally heading out to break her fast with the rest of her family.

Arya emerged into Winterfell's Great Hall where everyone was already indulging their first meal of the day, her direwolf, Nymeria, padding along with her.

She took a seat next to Jon, as always.

"What took you so long, young lady?" Mother asked her.

Arya only had herself to blame for their impatience because it did take some time for her to get up. Well, she'd always been a lazy fuck. That was the truth. But fuck it.

"I'm sorry, mother." Was all she said, refusing to elaborate her evident procrastination inside her bedchambers because really, she'd had enough of her mother's early morning chastisement.

But it seemed as though her mother always found a reason to berate her for she never failed to notice Arya's clothes yet for the hundredth time.

"Why are you not wearing your dress, Arya? You're supposed to be a lady and therefore you should act like one. By the gods, you're not ten years old anymore! You ought to be wearing dresses starting tonight or I swear I will burn all your _boy clothes_ if you do not heed my demands." Her mother chided.

_They're Bran's clothes, mother, I stole them from him. It's not like he still needs them, anyway. He's taller than me now. _Arya said her snide reply only through her thoughts, and instead, schooled her features into fake contrition. She knew better than to engage in a verbal sparring with her mother at this time of the day, so she ate her meal silently.

Before their morning meal ended, her father silenced everyone for an important announcement. She noticed a piece of parchment on her father's hand, her instincts telling her that the letter came from King's Landing.

"We just received a message from the King himself." He announced, loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. "The King and his guards ride for Winterfell in a month's time, so we all have to prepare for his arrival."

They all looked at each other in surprise.

Never in Arya's existence had the King visited the North after the war. But it's not like it had an impact on her or anything. She didn't care much about King Robert Baratheon, truth be told. He was nothing but a war-mongering drunk who loved to fuck whores all his life. Treasonous, but true.

In the midst of her hateful thoughts, a realization suddenly crossed her mind. She knew well that the King's Hand, Jon Arryn, died all of a sudden (and if they were to ask her, his death was rather questionable in every sense).

"I think I know why the king's travelling this far north. It's easy enough to conclude that he's meaning to make our father his new Hand." Arya whispered to Jon.

Jon only looked at her and shrugged.

"You have a good point." Jon told her. "Since when have you grown to be politically inclined?" He japed.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. "It's not difficult to put it all together, you know. Jon Arryn's death means a spot open for the position of the King's Hand. Obviously." Then she drew closer to Jon's ear, this time turning serious. "I don't even see any reason why Father has to be the hand to some drunk, stupid king." She added resentfully.

It definitely worried her that her father would be left to run the Seven Kingdoms in the king's stead as the Hand. And it would also be because of this that her father would have to be away from Winterfell.

"Don't call the king stupid. You know he's not really that bad, all things considered." Jon told her.

She scoffed at his remark. "Not bad? Really? The man drinks too much and goes on whoring like there's no tomorrow. I doubt he could ever run Westeros without the help of that son he just legitimized. I bet the crown prince would be a better ruler even if I don't really know anything about him. I don't even see how father has put up to him all this time." Arya said.

Jon just shrugged. "Well, King Robert's our father's best friend in the first place. There has to be a good reason why they're still friends until now because Father has a reasonable judgment. Always remember that." Jon explained.

Arya only sighed in resignation.

Only three days were left before the King and his men would arrive for Winterfell. It was said that they were stopping at Winter Town in the meantime.

Since everyone in Winterfell was busy with all the preparations, it left Arya with greater liberty to escape her lessons altogether without anyone batting an eye on her. She found that the King's visit wasn't so bad after all.

It was only when she had been absent from her lessons for quite some time already that she took one day to attend her needlework just so that they wouldn't be suspicious of her. They had their stupid needlework lessons with the septa just right after breakfast.

What a better way to start her day than prick her fingers with needles all because she had the clumsiest hands when it came to sewing stitches.

She frowned at her stitches with dismay and glanced over to where Sansa sat among the other girls. Her sister's needlework was exquisite.

Everyone else said so.

She remembered when her Lady mother asked about Arya, the septa only sniffed and said, _"Arya has the hands of a blacksmith."_

Arya only rolled her eyes in frustration at the thought of their remarks toward her stiches.

_If they think I have the hands of a stupid blacksmith, then they should have just let me work in the bloody forge instead of letting me do some stupid needlework. I'd rather forge my own sword that sit here to bitterly gawk at how stupid my stitches are!_

Arya glanced furtively across the room, worried that Septa Mordane might have read her thoughts, but the septa was paying her no attention today and had her attention instead to Beth Cassel, Ser Rodrik's little girl, who was very good with following her instructions with today's needlework.

She studied her own work again, looking for some way to salvage it, then sighed and put down the needle.

Arya looked glumly at her sister.

Sansa was chatting away happily as she worked, and one of her friends, Jeyne, was leaning over to whisper something to her ear.

"What are you talking about?" Arya asked suddenly.

Jeyne gave her a startled look, then giggled. Sansa looked abashed. No one answered.

Arya huffed a frustrated sigh.

"Tell me," she demanded.

Jeyne glanced over to make certain that Septa Mordane was not listening.

"We were talking about the prince," Sansa replied, her voice soft as a kiss and giving Arya a knowing look.

Arya knew that they were not talking about Joffrey. When Sansa was as young as a toddler, she used to be betrothed to Joffrey Baratheon before the scandal of their lineage broke out—an abomination of the greatest sort. After it had been discovered that Joffrey and his other siblings were not really the King's children, thanks to the assistance and the brilliant mind of the great Tyrion Lannister and of course Jon Arryn, they had been stripped off their royal rights and banished out of King's Landing and back to Casterly Rock with their mother, Cersei Lannister.

Her Lord father made sure to find another suitable match for Sansa immediately after the news broke out and now, she was betrothed to Willas from House Tyrell, who was nothing but smitten by Arya's beautiful sister.

Arya was certain that they were talking about the true prince, the real heir to the Seven Kingdoms, who had been discovered by Jon Arryn many, many years ago. She couldn't even recall the name of that prince they were eagerly talking about and she never even bothered at all. It's not like she had plans on getting herself acquainted with him when their party arrived, anyway. She had far more pressing things to consider rather than mingle with royalty.

But then again, her curiosity always got the better of her.

Even if she couldn't care less about the crown prince's name, she still wanted to know what her sister and Jeyne were talking about. At least this temporary diversion would get her mind off her stitches.

Arya raised an eyebrow at them resentfully.

"What about the prince?" She asked.

"What do you think about the prince, sister? They say he's very gallant, very handsome and very good-natured even if he came from the most humble of beginnings. I heard he used to be a smith's apprentice in Flea Bottom when he was younger." It was Sansa's turn to ask her.

She noted how unusual it was of Sansa to ask for her opinion, especially about princes and whatnot, but Arya only shrugged, her eyes averting back to her stitches.

"I don't really give a shit about what the prince is like, Sansa." She retorted stoically.

Sansa and Jeyne giggled foolishly. "I heard that he rides for Winterfell as well, along with his King father and Lord Renly."

Arya instinctively rolled her eyes and scowled at them. "So? He can bloody ride wherever and _whatever_ he pleases even if it was some bloody whore in Winter Town for all I bloody care." She finally said, unfortunately loud enough to garner Septa Mordane's attention.

"Watch your mouth, young lady!" The septa chastised, her nostrils flaring angrily. Her face only irritated Arya more. "That is not how a highborn lady of the castle talks." Then she averted her eyes to the stitches left forgotten on Arya's lap. She rose to her feet, starched skirts rustling as she started across the room.

"Let me see your stitches." She demanded.

Arya wanted to scream.

It was just like Sansa to go and attract the septa's attention.

"Here," she said, surrendering up her crooked work.

The septa examined the fabric, then shook her head, clearly disappointed by her work. "This will not do. This will not do at all."

Everyone was now looking at her. It was too much.

Sansa was too well bred to smile at her sister's disgrace, but Jeyne was smirking on her behalf.

The septa's reaction irked her. Because no matter how hard she tried, Arya knew that that was all her hands could do as far as stiches would go. She'd had enough of all the berating for her stupid stiches and it's not even her fault for using the wrong hand to sew.

She pushed herself out of her chair and bolted for the door angrily.

Septa Mordane called after her. "Arya, come back here! Don't you take another step! Your lady mother will hear of this. You'll shame us all with your unruly behavior!"

Arya stopped at the door and turned back, her eyes filled with searing rage. "By your leave, Septa Mordane, ladies." She seehed.

"Just where do you think you are going, Arya?" The septa demanded.

Arya glared daggers at her.

"To find something better to do than waste my time on crooked stiches. I'm a hopeless case, anyway," She said in a mockingly sweet manner, taking a brief satisfaction in the shock of the septa's face. "Or better yet, go to the forge where I truly belong. I have the hands of a blacksmith as you said so, anyway." Then she whirled and made her exit, running down the steps as fast as her feet would take her.

It was too early in Arya's age to realize that life was not really fair. Her sister already had everything. Since Sansa was two years older, maybe by the time Arya had been born, there had been nothing left for her, or maybe if she believed that gods existed, she could have thought that they had created her just out of sheer mockery.

It often felt that way.

Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells. Worse, she was very beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother's fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tully's.

Arya took after their lord father. Her hair was a lusterless dark brown, and her face was long and solemn. Jeyne used to call her Arya Horseface, and neigh whenever she came near. It hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than her sister was ride a horse, and read books she considered more substantial than those cheap and mushy novels about love and romance.

Nymeria, was waiting for her in the guardroom at the base of the stairs. The wolf bounded to her feet as soon as she caught sight of her. Arya plastered a very wide grin, her burst of anger already forgotten. Nymeria loved her, even if no one else did. Had her lady mother not forbidden it, Arya would've gladly taken her to needlework.

By now, the septa must have already sent word to Mother of her misdemeanor but Arya did not care to be found as she had a better notion. The boys were at the practice yard as usual. Arya and her wolf headed toward the window in the covered bridge between the armory and the Great Keep where there was a better view of the whole yard.

As soon as they arrived, Arya was surprised to see Jon seated on the sill, one leg drawn up languidly to his chin. Her older brother was watching Robb and Bran spar at wooden swords, seemingly so absorbed that he was unaware of her presence until Ghost moved to meet them.

Jon gave her a curious look.

"Shouldn't you be on your stitches, little sister?"

Arya grimaced at his remark. "I'm not so little anymore, Jon. Besides, my stitching is all too hopeless anyway."

He smiled at her. "Come here, then."

He beckoned for her to climb to the window to sit beside him. There was a chorus of thuds and grunts from the yard below.

"Is it another case of unsalvageable crooked stitches, then?" Jon observed.

Arya nodded in agreement, a smile threatening to break out.

Jon only grinned and reached over her, messing up her hair like he always did. They had always been close. Her favorite brother had their father's face, as she did. They were the only ones. When she was still a snotty child, she had been afraid that she was a bastard too. But it had been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had reassured her all the time.

He suddenly turned serious as he continued to look at her.

"No matter what happens, you will always be my favorite little sister, even if you're not so little anymore… Gods, how time flies by so fast. I would miss you, you know." He suddenly said, almost sadly.

Arya gave him a puzzled look.

"What are you talking about, Jon? It's not like I'm going away or something. And it's not like I'm off to marry some stupid lord and bear his stupid babes. You know I won't let that happen." She told him.

Then her eyes widened in realization.

"Wait, are you off somewhere? Are you going to be wed to some lady far, far away? Please say no…" She told him, her eyes giving away fear.

Jon grinned at her widely and brought his arm around her shoulders to draw her closer.

"No… I'm not going away, Arya. I'm just saying I'm going to miss you because you're growing up too fast." He told her.

Then he pulled away from her as he motioned to stand up.

"You had best run back to your room, you know. The septa will surely be lurking. The longer you hide, the sterner the penance. You'll be sewing all through winter."

Arya only snorted.

"Oh come on, I'm too old for that crap. I don't care if they beat the pulp out of me, I hate needlework. The only Needle I love is the one you gave me a few years ago." She said, her scowl turning into a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 2: Meeting**

**Arya**

Before Arya decided to head back to her bedchambers and accept her fate of endless berating, she had thought better to escape Winterfell for the rest of the day by riding off to her favorite spot somewhere near Winter Town. It was a spot with a small lake surrounded by an overgrowth of trees on one side. The other side of the lake gave her a marvelous panorama of the Northern hills, which had always been her solace every time she would have her episodes of ungovernable temperament.

She was now clad in her boyish outfit consisting of her boiled leather jerkin over her tunic and thick black breeches and long black boots. This time she still kept her hair in a neat bun. To further protect her body from the weather, she also donned on her thick grey cloak around her back. She managed to hide some of the boy's clothes she had been using inside a basket in a secluded part of the First Keep and that was where she had changed her clothes that day.

She always dressed herself as a boy every time she would head outside of Winterfell. Even when she would visit Winter Town with her brothers, she would always be mistaken for a boy. But the more the people would mistake her as a boy, the better. She didn't want any of the townsfolk to suspect who she really was or else her companions would be scandalized for riding with a girl like her.

When she arrived at her spot, the lake was peaceful and serene as usual. No one else knew of her secret spot, not even Jon. For a few days of the week she would escape to this place and just be herself, either by practicing with Needle or lying on the soft grass only to fall asleep. Sometimes, she would even dip her bare feet on the lake despite the freezing temperatures of the water.

This time though, as soon as she got off her horse, she noticed something moving on the opposite side from where she stood. Right after she hastily tied the reins of her horse to the nearest tree, she squinted her eyes for a closer look, making a few silent steps toward the moving object.

When she was only a few meters closer, she was startled upon the realization that it was a destrier tied to one of the trees. It was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. Her grey eyes widened as she studied the horse, drawing herself closer to it. Then as if by instinct, her hand lifted up on its own accord to feel the destrier's shiny mane. The horse didn't seem to mind her presence, which was a bit surprising. It may be because Nymeria was not with her at that moment, choosing that hour to go into the deepest parts of the woods for a hunt.

As soon as her hands finally touched the destrier's mane, a voice suddenly broke out somewhere behind the horse, concealed by the thick packet of trees.

"Who goes there?" Came a very deep and authoritative voice.

Arya was taken aback by the deepness of the voice that she almost fell when she moved away. She was lucky enough that her back had landed with a loud thud onto the next tree.

"Where are you?" Came her shaky voice, but she tried to remain as calm and composed as possible, holding the hilt of Needle as if she was prepared for a sudden attack at any given moment.

She heard the footsteps getting closer with every heartbeat.

"Show yourself to me!" She demanded in an equally authoritative voice, sounding like a boy.

As she squinted her eyes for a closer look, a very tall and brooding figure finally emerged from the darkness. Despite his massive frame, she found herself very surprised to see a young lad who was about Jon and Robb's age but larger than her brothers standing right before her. His eyes were seriously fixed on her which obviously made her queasy.

When her grey eyes finally lingered on his, she was so stunned to be looking at the bluest pair of eyes she had ever seen. It was as blue as the crystal-clear sky that she couldn't help but find herself drawn to them for no reason at all.

She involuntarily bit her lip at the hint of the growing stubble on his jaw and chin, just plain evidence that he had not shaved in days. His boyish hair was a contrast to his blue eyes as they were the blackest color she had seen in her life, all messy and mussed up but not entirely unattractive.

In fact, inasmuch as it was the hardest for Arya Stark to admit it, she found him very, very attractive that she couldn't take her eyes off him no matter how much she tried to look away. If anything, his gaze was very bewitching.

Under his dark grey cloak, he was wearing a grease-stained tunic, a leather jerkin, black breeches and brown boots. His leather jerkin was kept open and untied, revealing the opening on the top of his tunic, showing a hint of some hair on his broad and chiseled chest. The sleeves of his tunic were folded halfway up only to reveal the bulky muscles in his arms.

They continued to study each other for a few more heartbeats until Arya felt her breath hitch. She literally forgot how to breathe_._

When she finally realized that she was standing right in front of a potential enemy, she kept her guard up and positioned herself for a possible fight.

"What are you doing in my spot, Ser?" She asked him indignantly, raising an eyebrow at him.

He gave her a very subtle yet serious glare that made him look even more stunning. It made her insides twitch involuntarily. She noted how his serious face made him even more attractive.

"I am not a Ser, as you so thought. I am merely a blacksmith's apprentice. I came from Winter Town." He told her a matter-of-factly.

His deep voice suddenly made her shudder.

She shook her thoughts away from thinking about what else she could say about his features and focused instead on guarding herself. Her eyes turned to the outfit he was wearing which now made sense to her.

Arya felt the need to relax a little as she loosened her grip on Needle's hilt. She released a sigh of relief.

"But why are you here in my spot? Winter Town's far away from here. Why don't you just go get some place else and find some other person to bother?" Arya spat at him disgruntledly, her hands now on her hips.

He only gave a sarcastic snort.

"Your place? Does it have your name on it anywhere? The last I checked I am also entitled to stay in this place as much as you are."

Arya rolled her eyes at him and heaved a sigh of defeat.

"Fine." She resigned. "It's just that, I'm not used to having company around here, is all." She told him as she looked back into his cerulean eyes.

This time, he shook his head at her insolent behavior. One way or another, it might have also been a relief for him to know that she was way too small to be an opponent.

There was that very small hint of a boyish smug grin plastered on his face and for the first time in her life, Arya Stark was speechless. She felt her blood pooling all over her face, specifically on her cheeks.

He finally started pacing closer toward her direction as he held her gaze. Arya bit her lip once more as she tried to step back, trailing her hands around the bark of the huge oak tree for support. It was rather strange that her legs felt weaker. He only followed her direction as he carefully placed his large hand on the tree. Arya looked away from him as she turned around to continue trailing her fingers around the tree.

"This place is breathtaking. Do you come to this place often?" He suddenly asked her in a good-natured yet curious tone.

She could swear that she could feel his warm breath just at the back of her neck. The sensation gave her a different kind of unexplainable shiver throughout her body.

"Sometimes." She replied, trying to feign indifference at the sudden burst of alien sensations she was feeling. "This is my favorite place in the North." She added calmly as they both continued to walk carefully around the huge oak tree.

"How about you? What's a smith's apprentice doing this far from Winter Town? Haven't you got some work to do at the forge?" She asked with a guarded voice, refusing to turn her head back to him and his blue eyes, afraid that it would only lure her into a state of trance.

"My master has given me leave to take the day off so I rode away from Winter Town and happened to have passed by this place." He replied casually. "How about you? What's a young and skinny lad doing up here? Gone to escape from your duties? Where do you live by the way?" It was his turn to ask her.

Arya made a silent gasp at his question, somehow fearing that he might discover who she was. But then again, he had called her a lad.

She only continued walking around the tree.

"I'm one of the stable boys back in Winterfell. Lord Stark wanted me to give his horse a ride outside and get some fresh air so I decided to take his horse to this place." She replied with practiced words. She needed to be very careful not to give away her real identity.

"Winterfell." He whispered breathlessly.

"Have you ever been to Winterfell?" She suddenly asked him.

"No, but I might be visiting there a couple of days from now with my fa—my master for some important business." He replied gingerly.

Arya stopped in her tracks as she stood with her hand leaning on the tree. "Really? The King will also arrive in Winterfell in a few days. The rest of the people in the castle are busy. Do you really think that Lord Stark will be able to entertain your master when you arrive?" She asked him curiously.

"I think so." Was his short response as he shrugged.

Arya walked back around the tree once more with him following behind.

Suddenly, a realization came to knock her senses off.

"Wait, so if you're visiting Winterfell in a few days, then you must be visiting with the King then? Am I right?" She surmised.

She continued with her slow paces. When she turned around the corner, she got surprised when she almost bumped into him and his massive form. It turned out that he was waiting for her on the other end of the tree. Her heart leapt the moment she stood frozen right before him, her eyes fixed into his blue eyes once more.

"Yes." He replied in a low, gruff voice.

"So what's really your business with coming to Winterfell with the King?" She asked again suspiciously.

His eyes were now piercing into her grey ones as if he was looking through her very soul—as if he had finally figured out that she wasn't really a boy.

"I don't really know. I'm just a lowly smith's apprentice. I don't know what matters are needed to be discussed with my master and the Lord of Winterfell." He replied plainly, huffing out a long sigh.

He looked tired.

Arya wanted to tell him that the King was stupid and that he never should have travelled to Winterfell all the way from King's Landing, but she knew better than blurt that out. She had to hold her tongue for he might be one of the Baratheon guards or even one of the Kingsguards disguised as a smith, given the destrier he brought along with him. Her sharp words might one day lead her to her own demise for being accused of treason.

"Maybe that answers why you are bringing a horse from the King or his guards… were you also tasked to take that horse somewhere?" She tried to pry in a suspicious tone, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You're a smart lad for your age. And yes, I had to take this destrier for some fresh air because we have been travelling for almost a month now. Since I took leave from my master, I was also tasked to bring the horse along… So, you don't really have to be suspicious of me, by the way." He assured her good-naturedly although his face remained emotionless.

"I wasn't really suspecting you of anything. I was merely asking." She spat sharply, moving away from him and finally walking toward the lake.

For a moment she thought of letting her hair down to let the cool northern breeze run through her long dark brown tresses, but she remembered that she was pretending to be a boy.

Instead, she just made herself comfortable by dipping her bare feet on the cool waters of the lake as she found her seat on one of the huge rocks. Needle was gingerly placed on the spot next to her.

The smith's apprentice seemed to have followed what she was doing. He was now sitting beside her as they savored the coldness of the northern wind breezing through their faces. She noticed his eyes averting to look at Needle.

"That's a fine sword you have there. But it's not like any of the typical swords I see." He remarked, regarding her carefully.

Arya gave him a very curt smile.

"I call that sword Needle. It's very thin but it could kill any man, or woman, so don't be fooled." She told him smugly.

He furrowed his brows and squinted his eyes as if to study the sword right beside her. "That looks like castle-forged steel." He remarked.

Arya nodded her head.

"Aye. It is castle-forged steel made by the finest blacksmith from Winterfell. He gave it to me some years ago." She told him, making sure to formulate the smoothest lie as quickly as possible.

He nodded at her and only replied, "I see. So you know how to swordfight then?" He asked once more.

Arya nodded her head. "Yes. I can swordfight."

She had wanted to tell him she was one of the best but she had to remember to be very careful with her words this time.

After allowing a few moments of the coolest winds to sweep over the vicinity of the lake, he finally broke the silence.

"We've been talking this entire time, but I don't even know your name yet." He suddenly spoke.

Arya bit her lip for a second. "My name is Ary—Arry." She lied. She had to.

"Arry…" The smith's apprentice repeated her fake name. "Your name's weird for a boy. Say, how old are you?" He asked her again.

"Seven-and-ten." She replied nervously but she still dared herself to look him straight in the eye without faltering just so that he would believe her lie.

He knit his eyebrows in confusion. "Really? You don't sound like a boy of seven-and-ten." He told her incredulously.

She pretended to shrug it off nonchalantly. "Haven't gotten past my growth spurt years yet. That happens to some of the boys my age." She tried to explain. "What's your name by the way?" It was her turn to ask him just so that he won't have to ask her any more questions.

"I'm Gendry." He told her casually, his blue eyes gazing at hers for a few heartbeats then averting it to the view of the lake and the Northern hills.

"How old are you, Gendry?" Arya asked.

"I'm two-and-twenty." He replied.

She was surprised to see how massive he was built compared to her brothers who had the same age as him. She would have wanted to tell him about her brothers but that would give away too much information already, so she held her tongue once more.

"So, if you came with the King on the way to the North, then you must be a Southerner then? Straight from King's Landing, I presume." She asked him.

Gendry nodded. "Yes from Flea Bottom. Born and bred." He replied.

"What's it like in King's Landing?" She asked him as her eyes were fixed on the greenest hills.

"Miserable." He retorted sternly.

Arya looked at him this time and saw the gloom in his eyes.

"It's everything and nothing all at once. It's a combination of the most extreme of living conditions." He added, wincing slightly at the thought of the capital. "Poverty and sickness is everywhere. It's the worst you could ever encounter in your life."

Arya nodded her head in understanding.

If anything, despite her often brazen and strong personality, deep inside her heart she still held a soft spot for those at the bottom rung of society. There was a pang in her heart the moment he mentioned about their living conditions.

She took a sharp intake of air before swallowing the invisible lump on her throat. At least she only had to worry about getting away or delaying any impending betrothal planned by her mother and father. She hoped to the non-existent gods that her parents would not be able to find a suitable lord for her.

"That's…" Arya trailed off, searching for a word to describe it as her eyes looked up to the blue sky. "Horrid." She finally said, heaving a sigh.

She heard him sigh as well. "Yes. It is indeed. You're lucky you belong to the North. At least you won't have to endure the stench surrounding King's Landing." Came his statement.

It sounded very realistic. She definitely didn't want to live in a place that stank so badly. Perhaps she'd never visit King's Landing if it was that desolate.

"I guess so. If I was to choose, I'd rather be living in Winterfell than in King's Landing. I've heard stories about the capital too, read about them in books as well." She retorted, suddenly feeling comfortable in his presence.

"How did a stable boy like you learn how to read?" He asked her suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at her.

_Shit_.

She bit her lip as she tried to formulate the fastest lie she could think of.

"You see, Lord Stark is a very generous lord. He makes sure to also educate the help around the castle, including stable boys." She tried to explain, hoping that he would buy her idea.

She was more than relieved to find him nodding his head in approval.

"Very generous indeed." He agreed blankly.

They stayed that way in the lake for a few more hours until her stomach finally grumbled. She could practically hear Gendry let out a mocking snort. She glared at him and rolled her eyes.

"I'm getting hungry, alright?" She hissed through gritted teeth.

Gendry raised his hands in mock surrender.

"I know, I know. I think I am too." He told her equally but he was trying to stifle a smile.

Her eyes were fixed on his face for a few short seconds before finally realizing that it must be in the early afternoon already because she was getting very hungry and the last meal she had was when during breakfast.

"Do you want to go to Winter Town? We could have our midday meal there." He suggested.

Arya hesitated for a moment. Someone would definitely recognize her to be Arya Stark of Winterfell in Winter Town. But the excitement of a new adventure thrilled her more than her fear of being discovered. That's the point of sneaking out of Winterfell and going to this place. It was the thrill she was seeking.

A smile slowly crept through her face for the first time as she looked up at him.

"Do you ride fast in that horse?" She asked him, flashing a devilish grin.

"Are you challenging me?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

Arya shrugged her shoulders casually, holding a smug look on her face. "I'll race you to back to Winter Town." She told him as she stood up.

She bolted toward her horse and untied the reins.

Gendry on the other hand strode toward the destrier in big and quick steps and mounted on his horse swiftly. The next thing Arya knew was she was already racing with him to Winter Town.

After long minutes of racing, she got off her horse with a very triumphant smirk on her face the moment they arrived at the entrance to Winter Town. Gendry got off his destrier as he walked toward her, pulling his horse with him through the reins.

"You're a very fast rider. Impressive." He remarked.

She was rather surprised by his remark. She was expecting him to be a sore loser, but he instead gave her something positive.

"Thanks, I guess." Arya replied as they walked along the streets of Winter Town.

She gingerly scanned the area for any of her father's guards from Winterfell but she was relieved when she found none. She tried to duck her head low to conceal her face and her eyes from the people. She tried to keep a low profile.

Leaving their horses tied near the entrance of Winter Town, they headed to the markets where hot chicken broth and boiled potatoes with fresh herbs were sold and cooked. They were about to buy their food when she suddenly saw her father's head of the guards, Jory Cassel, talking with one of the vendors selling pork and chicken. Her heart leapt for fear of being recognized, especially by Jory. He knew her too well even in breeches.

She cursed silently. "Shit!"

It wasn't enough to be out of Gendry's earshot though for he turned back to her and questioned her. "What's wrong?"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the market. The moment her hand touched the skin on his strong arm, she felt a sudden jolt in her insides that she really could not explain. She was not even sure this time if her heart was beating faster because she found Jory or if it's entirely for a whole new different reason.

Before she could make her reply, she noticed Gendry having the same look of fear as hers. When she turned around, she saw some Baratheon men heading their direction but she doubted if those guards even recognized the two of them.

This time, it was Gendry who grabbed her to a dark, secluded alley. She got even more surprised when he pressed his strong body to her as he pinned themselves on the wall to hide from the guards. She realized how tall he was that she had to tilt her head up for her to reach his eyes. Her face was very close to his chest that she could breathe in his scent.

It was unexpected.

_Wonderful_. _Enticing_. _Entrancing_.

He smelled of wood, soot and something entirely different, something entirely his own. And he smelled so… good. Her lips were slightly parted the moment she looked up at him.

He had his eyes fixed on her as well as if trying to study her. Her face suddenly betrayed a blush.

When they were sure that the guards were gone, he finally pulled away from her as she tried to lean on the wall to hold herself. Her legs suddenly felt jelly-like. She released a long sigh as if she had been holding her breath for a long time. She had forgotten how to breathe again.

Arya tried to stand still to steady the beating of her heart as Gendry faced her once more.

"Let's just go to some inn or something." He suggested seriously.

Arya narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why are you hiding from the guards?" She asked him.

Gendry only shrugged nonchalantly. "I just don't want them to see me. They might ask me to mend their armor or their swords. It's my time off, remember? I don't want to do some work today." He explained calmly.

Arya started to walk. "Oh, alright then. Come on, let's get something to eat. I'm really hungry now." She told him.

As soon as he finally caught up with her paces, he suddenly looked at her suspiciously.

"You also acted as if you didn't want anyone to see you here in Winter Town. Why? Are you hiding something?" He asked.

Arya tried to remain calm instead of stopping in her tracks. "I'm not hiding something. I just don't feel like greeting people right now because I'm so hungry." She lied.

She heard him heave a sigh as he uttered an almost incoherent, "As you say so."

Then she led him to an inn she knew was secluded from the rest of the village people.

They ate a hearty meal of creamy chicken soup with pease, some bread and fresh cow's milk. Arya was so hungry that she had to order another two more servings of the same meal which left Gendry in shock.

"You eat like a full-grown man. Just exactly where do you keep your other stomach?" He remarked, shaking his head playfully.

Arya was still chewing the huge piece of bread in her mouth, making both her cheeks bulge. If Mother could see her right now surely Arya would not be allowed to eat dinner not only because of her unladylike behavior, but also because of the amount of food she was eating.

"What? I'm hungry. I eat a lot when I'm hungry." She told him, the bread stuffed inside her mouth muffling her voice while the small crumbs sputtered in all directions.

"You can have the rest of my food too, if you like. I'm already full." He told her as he passed the bowl of soup to her with his last piece of bread.

She looked up at him, confused.

"That's your share so you eat it." She told him.

Gendry shook his head. "No, really. You can have it, Arry." He insisted seriously.

Arya breathed a sigh of resignation and took his food.

When they were finished with their meal, Arya was more than surprised with his offer to pay for all the food they ate. She politely turned down his offer, insisting that she brought money with her but Gendry stubbornly declined her coin.

"Just keep your money and save it for the rainy days, okay? I got this. I have more than enough right now." He assured.

It was a bit odd how a blacksmith like him had more than enough money. Perhaps his master always paid him more or maybe he saved a lot of money in his years of work.

She continued to study him curiously as he paid the innkeeper for their meal. It was the first time she had seen someone give so much considering his state in life. He was not even a highborn lord, and yet he was very generous.

Arya blinked twice and only muttered a hurried "Thanks" after everything was settled.

As they headed out of the inn, Arya finally decided to go back to Winterfell as it would take almost an hour riding back to the castle.

"Just so you know, I'm not a charity case like what you think I am. So next time, I'll pay for myself… and for you as well. We could do that. To be fair." She told him albeit calmly.

If anything, she wasn't mad at him, it's only that her pride was slightly shaken. Gendry gave her his warm response.

"Alright then. I'll let you pay next time." He finally agreed.

Then he inched closer to her as he inclined his head to her ear. "So there really is a next time for us, isn't it?" He whispered then he pulled away from her, smiling impishly.

It was her first time seeing him flash a full-toothed smile. And the words he just said suddenly made her blush profusely. She tried to open her mouth to speak but the right words failed to come out.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow then? The same spot and the same place in the lake?" He asked her.

Arya gave him a smile that actually looked like a sheepish grimace.

"Sure. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow." She told him but regretted her words the moment it came out from her mouth.

She sounded like some stupid bloody lady who was 'looking forward' to having a rendezvous with him. 

She shook her head mentally as if to shun those thoughts away.

"Just make sure to get back to Winterfell in one piece. I heard that there are wolves in the road." He told her.

Arya snorted at what he just said.

If he only knew that she lived with direwolves her entire life.

Before she could walk away, Gendry extended his hand to her. "It's was nice meeting you, Arry."

Arya took his hand in hers and made a firm grasp. "Nice meeting you too." She said good-naturedly but careful enough not to show him she was a girl.

His hand was very warm. As warm as the furnaces in Winterfell and as warm as Mikken's forge. Little did she know that her eyes were drawn back into his eyes once more and what's worse was she may have held his hand for more than what was necessary.

She immediately but reluctantly let go of his hand.

She finally arrived back in Winterfell after less than an hour of riding her horse with Nymeria padding behind her. Her direwolf met with her along the road to Winterfell. As she got off her horse, she felt tired but very much content to be having another adventure that day, especially now that she had made a new friend in the form of Gendry.

After she reluctantly walked to her bedchambers, what she saw was worse than Jon had thought.

It wasn't just Septa Mordane waiting in her room.

It was Septa Mordane and her mother.

Despite the fact that she had been used to an endless bout of chastisement, she still hated the fact that they wouldn't just let her be herself. She had been escaping sewing lessons her whole life and getting scolded afterwards.

It's as if it's all just a never-ending cycle.

She'd been meaning to break it, only, she just didn't know how.


	3. Chapter 3

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 3: Sentencing**

**Arya**

The following morning, Arya awoke to the sound of thunders growling in the skies above. As she peered through her window, she noticed a formation of dark, massive clouds. The wind breezing through her window was also colder than the usual as she felt gooseprickles on her arms and neck.

She had to snuggle up more under her blankets to keep herself from the chilly air circulating her room. As she wriggled with her sheets to savor whatever warmth that's left from her featherbed, the events from yesterday suddenly filled her thoughts, most especially about her encounter with the young smith's apprentice, Gendry.

For some reason, the thought of him made her warm in all the right places and made her forget about her anger from yesterday following her sewing lessons. In fact, she had to admit that meeting Gendry was the best part of her day yesterday.

She couldn't even bring herself to admit that this was because she found him ultimately attractive. It was an unwilling denial on her part because Arya Stark did not do attraction.

She'd never been with any other boy like him in her life except for her direct relations and Theon, so it might have been understandable that she felt different around him.

Sure, she had other friends from before who were of the opposite gender in the form of Mycah (the butcher's boy), and Ned Dayne from Starfall, she still could not put together why it was so different being with Gendry. Maybe it was because both of her other friends were boys, while Gendry was clearly already a man.

She never felt her heart beat faster with Mycah, nor had she ever flustered profusely when Ned was around. But with Gendry, she somehow felt … _reactive_. His touch always had an effect on her and his intense gaze always made her bare-naked and open right before him.

She shook her head to rid her mind of more unbidden thoughts of him before finally rising from her bed lazily.

As soon as she finished washing her face, she tied her hair in a tight but messy bun then proceeded with binding her chest with the piece of cloth she had been keeping for that purpose. She had made it a habit to bind her chest every time she would head out of Winterfell when wearing boy's clothes.

After donning on her blue and grey dress (because she had to wear a dress that day to at least try to look behaved in front of her mother and her septa), she carefully opened her wooden chest drawer and pulled out a clean set of tunic, boiled leather jerkin, her cloak and breeches.

She wore her loose breeches under her dress and she had to fold them until her knees to conceal them altogether. As for her boiled leather jerkin and white tunic, she had to wrap them with her grey cloak.

Nymeria was patiently waiting for her to finish dressing up at the foot of her bed.

When she looked at herself in front of the looking glass, she was content to see herself fairly presentable to her lady mother.

After a few minutes, she was already breaking her fast with her family.

She was in the middle of nibbling a small piece of potato in her fork sleepily when her Lord father cleared his throat as if to silence everyone around their table. He was specifically looking in her direction, which was quite unusual for him to do especially if she was not being berated for her unruly behavior.

"There's one very important thing we have been meaning to tell you, Arya. And we feel that now is the perfect time for you to be informed about it…" Her father suddenly spoke up, looking closely at her, then at her mother.

Her mother nodded in approval, but she noticed how her father plastered a worried look on his face.

Arya only gave them a curious look, raising an eyebrow. Her instincts suddenly churned up uncomfortably and right then and there she knew that this was something bad.

"What is it?" She had to ask anyway just to get it over with.

She kept her face guarded and her voice stern.

Her father held a lingering stare until he finally spoke. "Since your sister is already betrothed to the heir of Highgarden—" Arya was smart enough to surmise what her father was about to say next. But she spoke before he could.

"No, no, no, please. This can't be happening! You will not have me married to some stupid lord, Father! I've got no plans of getting married! Not now, not ever! I have specifically told everyone, including Mother, and Jon, and Robb, that I won't be shipped off somewhere just to be married to some lord to join our houses. I don't want to be a lady!" She fumed, her rage slowly clouding her sensibility.

No wonder all her siblings were having those knowing looks on their faces. They bloody knew already.

She had a firm grip on her fork and knife. Had she been strong enough, her knife and fork would have already bended to her will. She gritted her teeth to try to calm herself. This was exactly what she'd been dreading her whole life. She didn't want to be regarded as some lady wife bearing some lord's babe. She wanted to be free. She wanted to be like Brienne of Tarth. She wanted to be more. And this prospect right here, it wasn't her.

Father broke her train of thoughts when he spoke once more in a calm manner. "No, you will not marry some lord, sweetling."

She managed to let out a sigh of relief but deep inside, she still had that impending feeling of doom looming and crushing her slowly. Somehow she could foretell what her father would say next and she knew it was going to be worse.

Her gut feeling told her so.

When her father spoke again, she was all too sure that she would definitely not be liking the next words he would utter. "You are to marry King Robert's one true son and heir to join our houses, Arya. The real crown prince of Westeros."

Arya's eyes widened in shock and then it turned to full raging anger in a few heartbeats.

_No! No! This can't be possible!_

The grip on her fork and knife were only growing tighter that at any given moment, she'd be drawing blood. Gone were her dreams of riding the rest of the North with her horse and besting her brothers at sword fighting. She thought that becoming a wife to some pompous lord was the worst thing that could happen to her, but she was wrong.

The worst was just an understatement.

Becoming the future Queen of Westeros was a total disaster.

It was an end to her life—an end to Arya Stark of Winterfell.

_Seven fucking hells!_

Arya shook her head in horror, strongly appalled by their sudden decision without even consulting her. Her heart was pounding so hard, it felt like it's about to leap out of her chest.

"NO! You can't do this! You haven't even asked for my consent regarding this matter!" She exclaimed angrily.

Her father was still calm. Her mother keeping a stern face as if telling her she didn't have a choice in this betrothal. The rest of her siblings had mixed reactions of worry and apprehension, especially Jon.

They knew. All of them knew, except for her.

What a fucking mockery.

"The King had wanted this to happen, sweetling. And your mother and I both believe that it's high time for you to find a husband. And King Robert's son would be a perfect match for you." He retorted.

"You're almost a woman grown now." Her mother added. "Gods, you're seven-and-ten already! Any given time now, you'll flower and have your first moon-blood and you'll be ready to get married and bear children." Mother continued as if she was just talking about the sky being naturally blue.

Her heart only raced faster. She could feel all of the blood draining from her face.

"You'll be married by the time you will have your first moon-blood." Lord Eddard told her.

She rose from her seat angrily, glaring at them murderously.

"You all know I'm not just some mere object that you would readily ship off to whoever potential husband you want for me, right? Why haven't you consulted me about this? Why make this decision without me knowing, when in the first place, it is me who is going to be married?" Came her bitter questions, her heart breaking more than they could ever understand. No, they never understood her at all. Shaking her head, she continued with seething rage, "What makes you think that I will allow this betrothal to happen? You're all deluding yourselves if you think that I would just willingly accept what's been laid out for me without my own say in this matter.

"I will never ever submit myself to becoming a wife even if he was the bloody prince of the Seven fucking Kingdoms! You will not make a pawn out of me just to strengthen your fucking political alliances!" She screamed, her voice echoing over the granite walls of the Great Hall.

Her poor knife and fork flew and hit the stone walls before she stormed out of the hall angrily. The rest of her mood unsalvageable by any gods forsaken miracle.

She ran as fast as she could toward her secret place in the First Keep so that she could change into her boy clothes. After donning on her cloak, she didn't waste time running to the stables with Nymeria following her suit. She pulled out the reins from her horse and mounted it hastily.

"M'lady, where are you going?" One of the Winterfell guards asked her, wondering where she was off to as soon as she led her horse to the back gate of the castle.

The guard clearly had no idea what had transpired in the Great Hall.

"I'll be back before sundown. Don't bother catching up or I'll have your head in a spike when I get back!" She threatened the guard angrily with her domineering voice.

Arya felt sorry for what she said but she had to do it so that no one would come following her. Nymeria came running with her as soon as she rode out of Winterfell. She needed to breathe and let herself be free from the misery of belonging to a highborn family.

Rage fully enveloped her senses now that even her tears ran cold as she was riding her horse.

She went to her usual spot in the lake where the temperature was getting more frigid due to the obscure weather. Rain was also threatening to fall at any given moment. Nymeria was once again bound for the dark woods to hunt, allowing her this kind of solitude to release her wrath.

"Fuck!" She silently cursed, her words cut short as fresh warm tears finally fell down her pale face. She allowed herself to feel all the pain and welcome the reality of her situation as she continued to sob and let her fat tears fall without reservations.

This could not be happening. Clearly they knew she'd always been against fixed marriages, and yet they still made that fucking agreement to marry her off to none other than the crown prince of the whole bloody Seven Kingdoms!

She felt betrayed by her entire family. Because they all fucking knew except for her. And they had the nerve to tell all this to her in the last minute.

It was humiliating at its best. Degrading and downright unfair.

They all knew… Those traitors… While they were watching her being constantly reprimanded for her behavior, they all knew that she'd soon be traded off like this like some bloody cattle!

Her rage was now in full bloom and she had the urge to hit something. Anything.

She ran toward the nearest oak tree and began punching it. Her left hand now badly bruised and blood beginning to mar the soft, sensitive skin of her knuckles.

The first few blows were excruciatingly painful until she got used to the pain, the bones from her hand threatening to break from the impact. Blood now coated her entire left fist, leaving stains on the bark of the tree.

Just when she was about to make another blow to the poor oak tree, she heard a familiar voice from behind her.

"Has that tree ever done something wrong to you?" Came the voice of Gendry.

As soon as she turned around, she glared at him angrily.

"What do you care? It's none of your bloody business!" She spat.

Gendry only looked at her intently with those ice blue eyes. He still held his usual serious face as he closed the distance between them.

"I heard you crying. I thought you were in danger, so I had to check." He retorted.

Then his eyes averted to her blood-soaked fist before she could completely hide her bruised hand behind her back.

"My troubles are none of your concern." She told him, her voice still hoarse from her crying fit.

Gendry only looked at her intently as he remained silent. He regarded her without any judgment, albeit worry was evident in those blue eyes.

The unbearable pain from her damaged hand betrayed her façade until she winced in obvious pain.

"You're hurt." Observed Gendry, carefully taking her hand in his.

"It's nothing." Was all she said.

Despite the calluses from his fingers, Arya couldn't help but feel how gentle he was in holding her injured hand.

He pulled out a white cloth that looked like a handkerchief from the pocket of his breeches and began wrapping her hand with it. He was busy tending to her wound while all she could do was stare at him and those eyes hidden under thick, dark lashes and thick raven hair. Arya Stark was rendered speechless once more, her tears finally forgotten.

"There. It's best that you have someone see to that wound." He finally told her after tying the last knot, breaking her sudden trance.

She was suddenly too tried to say anything, so she settled for sitting on the wooden stump by the lake as he followed her carefully. Her earlier rage was suddenly tamed by his presence. They stayed quiet for a long time; Gendry's silence was surprisingly very therapeutic.

It was broken when he finally decided to ask, "You look like you could kill someone with the way you were hitting that tree. What happened?"

Arya looked at her boots, refusing to meet his searing gaze. "Nothing." Came her clipped response.

"Didn't look like it was nothing to me. Perhaps telling me would make you feel better. Talking to someone always does."

Arya finally heaved a sigh of defeat before replying. "Just…family duties." She muttered.

"I see. Seems like we have that in common, then. It's that moment when you come to realize that you have to live up to your family's expectations and make sure that you do your duty to uphold your family name, even if it's against your will. But there's nothing you can do but accept your responsibility without question. Because that's what you ought to do." He explained, all of a sudden lost in his own train of thoughts.

But she completely felt for him, because he just told her exactly what she felt earlier at the Great Hall. The look she gave him just confirmed his prior statement.

"Is that what this is about, then? Or am I to believe that your troubles right now are entirely different from what I just spoke about?"

Arya raised an eyebrow at him, confused.

"Well, no, you were actually right the first time. Why? What else were you thinking?"

The stolid look on his face softened until his lips curled into a knowing sinister smirk.

Maybe he already knew her secret.

No, that couldn't be possible. She was being very cautious about hiding her identity. He couldn't possibly know that she's actually a girl posing as some random lad.

"Well, you know, I thought you were infuriated by the fact that someone discovered that you are actually a girl hiding in boy's clothes." Came his casual retort.

Arya's eyes widened in shock. Fear was evidently etched on her face right now.

How in Seven Hells did he bloody know that she was a girl when she was being very careful of not blowing her cover?

"I'm not a girl!" She spat indignantly.

Gendry was obviously unconvinced.

"Yes, you are." His eyes never left hers as he continued to study her, perhaps waiting for her to finally admit the truth.

"No, I'm not!"

He was damn good at suspecting her to be a girl. That was sure.

"Oh yes you are." He shot back, this time he arched an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not a fucking girl!"

"Why don't you pull your cock out and take a piss then?" He challenged her this time, flashing a grin more wicked than the last.

Arya was taken aback.

"I don't need to take a piss." Her tone was more subdued this time, finally admitting to her defeat.

Triumph morphed in his face.

"Then you're definitely a girl. I'm not as stupid as the rest." Came his all-knowing statement.

Arya ducked her head low. There was no way to argue with someone like him because he was very right about her in the first place.

A sigh of resignation left her lips.

"What gave me away?" She had to ask him.

Gendry gave her a once-over before pulling his face closer to her neck. She could feel his breath tickling her skin, her own heart thundering at their proximity. With a huge intake of air, as if sniffing her, she felt his lips on her ear.

"Your scent." The way he said it felt like sin. And she liked his raspy voice. "You smell like a girl."

It took all of her resolve to hold back the moan stuck in her throat at the feel of his warm breath that's doing wonders to her body right now. It was as if her prior problem was completely obliterated by the fact that he was so close to kissing her neck.

Taking a few shallow breaths, she finally spoke. "Really? Have you been with many girls then to know that I smell like one?"

He pulled away from her almost abruptly, but his gaze never left hers.

"I'm not daft. But to answer your question, yes. I've been with many girls to know that you smell like one."

Bloody hell. It never occurred to her that the soaps and fragrance oils the maids made her use would give her away like this.

She ought to be careful next time. But then again, there might never be a next time because she'd be sent away to be wedded to some prince she barely knew. But perhaps if she ran away then she could definitely have a next time.

Running away sounded like a good plan. Then she could finally have her freedom to become whatever she wanted. She'd no longer be bound by the invisible chains of nobility.

She broke from her train of thoughts as she spoke to him again, "No one else can know. Not while I am wearing something like this. It's safer to travel and it's more comfortable in boy's clothes."

He nodded in agreement before he deigned to ask, "So, if you're a girl, is Arry really your name? Or do you have some girl's name?"

Her eyes were now fixated on the hills beyond the lake.

"My name's not Arry. It's Arya…" She swallowed the invisible lump on her throat before finally untying the messy bun on top of her head, setting loose waves upon waves of thick dark brown hair that fell below her shoulders. "My name is Arya…of House Stark."

She saw the shocked look in his face at her confession, and something else unreadable. It was as if the blood from his face had drained, rendering him paper-white with surprise.

"House Stark…" He whispered in jagged breathing.

His eyes never left her grey ones as his gaze continued to penetrate her. He was unexpectedly stunned after she untied her hair despite already knowing that she was indeed a girl. It was a reaction she never got from anyone else.

"You're Lord Eddard Stark's daughter?"

She swallowed. "Yes."

"So, you're a highborn lady of Winterfell."

"Don't call me that!" She spat with righteous indignation.

"You're a lord's daughter. Ergo, that makes you a lady." Came his matter-of-fact, no-nonsense statement.

"Whatever you say. I don't give a fuck about being a lady. I was never a proper one to begin with."

His eyes continued to bore into her as if caught in a trance. "Not a proper lady, I suppose…" He trailed off, "But an interesting one."

Arya snorted at his outright flattery. She was not one to feel all giddy for receiving compliments from someone, much less from a man like Gendry.

"Don't patronize me."

"I wasn't patronizing, my lady, I was stating a mere fact."

"I said don't call me 'my lady.' I'm sick and tired of it." She hissed.

"It's your birthright." He countered.

"See, that's the problem."

"What problem?"

"That birthright thing. That's the problem. You're born into nobility with all the riches and lands you can own, but then you don't really get to choose for yourself because you are going to be stuck for life with some person assigned to you by contract, thus limiting you to your duties instead of actualizing your full potential as a person. It's a metaphor for a prison. You're bound by invisible chains just because of some tradition followed by your ancestors and the future generation to come." She was surprised by her elaboration, but at least she was able to explain her real thoughts without being judged by their myopic views.

Words failed to come out of Gendry's mouth for a few seconds as he tried to internalize what she just said. Arya hoped she made sense, or else her sentiments about nobility would be for naught.

Before he could provide her with a response, the heavy rains suddenly began pouring all over the vast expanse of the lake. They were both drenched within seconds of the outpour.

She felt her body shivering uncontrollably as the cold finally seeped through her clothes.

"Fuck!" She cursed. Before she could make a move, she felt a large warm hand tugging at her.

"We need to get under the trees before this rain gets any worse. Come on!" Gendry said as he started to walk toward the trees while holding her hand.

They stopped under one of the larger trees along the border of the forest, both of them already soaked as if they just took a plunge in the lake.

Arya bit her lip to keep it from shaking, hugging herself from the biting cold.

Suddenly, she felt something warm engulfing her back only to realize that Gendry had placed his warm cloak around her.

She looked up to him, confused.

"You need it more than I do." He told her good-naturedly.

"What about you?"

Gendry just shook his head. "I want to savor the cold while it lasts. You don't get a weather like this in the sweltering heat of King's Landing, I promise you." He winked.

She didn't want to argue anymore because it took too much effort to speak so she just shrugged and uttered an incoherent "Fine."

A moment of silence passed before it was broken by Gendry speaking.

"You're right, you know." He said, looking at her intently. "About the invisible chains of nobility and tradition. You've never been more accurate."

"It sucks that I'm sort of stuck into this kind of life, really. I envy you, though. Because you get to actualize your full potential as an apprentice without the dictates of family tradition and everything." She told him desolately.

"I'm not far from what you're actually experiencing, though. More or less we share the same dispositions about tradition and all…"

Arya look at him confusedly, "Whatever do you mean?"

Gendry took a sharp intake of air and released it with a long sigh.

"It's exactly like you said. Keeping the family tradition…" He trailed off. He waited for her to turn her eyes back to him before he finally said, "Becoming a ruler when it's time…"

Confusion was still painted on Arya's face.

"A master armorer, you mean?"

There was nothing but the truth in his azure eyes. She could see his throat bobbing before he finally retorted, "No, I am to become a ruler one day."

"A ruler of what?" She still didn't get it.

It's as if he was speaking in riddles this time. And she never had the patience for deciphering riddles.

Before either of them could say another word, she heard the sound of horses coming their way. It must be the Winterfell guards looking for her after she practically ran away from the castle earlier.

Arya immediately shot to her feet, turning to Gendry with haste. "I have to go. I'll see you in Winterfell when you get there, okay? I'll look for you when the Southron party arrives, I promise."

Before she could mount her mare, she was suddenly pulled back to his space, his hand tight but gentle on hers. "I'll see you in Winterfell, Arya Stark, and please don't push me away…" His words sounded contrite, as if he'd wronged her.

"Why would I push you away, Gendry? Anyway, I really have to go. We'll have all the time to talk when you get to Winterfell, alright? And thank you for this cloak. I'll return it to you after I wash it." She finally smiled at him before she reluctantly pulled away from his firm hold.

Fueled by adrenaline from keeping herself away from whoever was chasing her, Arya was finally back in Winterfell before any of her father's guards could catch up with her, her clothes still damp from the heavy rain. It wasn't until she arrived at the gates that she realized she was already burning with fever despite wearing Gendry's cloak. She felt so cold but she was burning deep inside. That was the best description she could garner considering her sudden state of illness.

When she hopped off her horse, she almost fell face-down if not for the reins she was still holding. Weakness suddenly replaced all the adrenaline she was feeling.

Fuck. She never should have let herself get soaked from the heavy rain.

"She's here! Arya's back!" A familiar male voice called out.

The rest of her family came out to meet her.

"Arya, where in Seven Hells have you been?!" Her mother cried out worriedly, bringing Arya to her and hugging her tight.

Arya only fell silent and numb.

Her mother noticed the blood oozing from the cloth on her left hand.

"And what happened to your hand?!" She exclaimed.

Her lord father approached with a very stern face. He even looked angry.

"Never ever run away like that, young lady! You could have been hurt or worst, taken away by Northern rebels!" Her father growled at her, raising his voice.

Instead of giving a biting retort, she only fell silent, her eyes drooping from weariness. She suddenly felt her head spinning that she couldn't even bring herself to talk.

_What the fuck is happening to me? _

She wanted to lie down and rest, and sleep for eternity. She felt so disoriented that she was no longer listening to the sermon of her lady mother.

"Arya, why are you wearing a Baratheon cloak?" The voice sounded like Bran's or Rickon's. She really couldn't tell now.

But then, one word stuck in her thoughts.

_Baratheon?_

Her insides desperately wanted to know the answer why.

_Why am I wearing a Baratheon cloak? This cloak came from Gendry, the smith's apprentice_.

Arya only looked at all of them without uttering another word.

_Baratheon_.

Her mind whispered.

_Baratheon_.

Why was she hearing voices inside her head now? She took a second to study her left hand which was full of blood.

Then her world went dark.


	4. Chapter 4

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 4: Colliding**

**Gendry**

More than two months of not having a cunt or two to fuck–that was how long Gendry Baratheon had been celibate. It had more to do with his personal and uncompulsory vow to stay away from other women, now that he was already betrothed, and another to do with travelling the road North from King's Landing for almost a month and refusing to fuck willing women during his travels, out of fear of being tricked into planting bastards into their wombs, which would only complicate his future alliance with the North.

It left him with only his hand to help achieve that needed release every day, and it's not like he was even enjoying fucking himself with his bare hands. No, he fucking needed that mind-blowing visual stimulation from someone who was actually beautiful and intriguing at the same time.

Unfortunately, Gendry found that women who intrigued him were pretty much already scarce nowadays, if not extinct. Nothing or no one seemed to strike his fancy anymore by challenging him into a verbal sparring or two. All the rest of the ladies back at court were just either conniving bitches who wanted to be a princess in order to have something to boost their social status, or dumb simpering fools who could no longer keep up with meaningful, substantial conversations with him.

He was no longer interested in women who were just beautiful (and fuckable) superficially, he wanted something more to challenge him every time, and he wished to the gods above that they would grant him that one request—for this betrothed to be someone he could actually learn to love because of her profound personality.

Sighing out of frustration as he laid on the featherbed inside the bedchambers he was staying at the inn, he finally rose and sat on his bed, his cock still unsatisfied from his morning wank.

Gods he hated his carnal appetites. Sometimes, he only had his father to blame for passing on that trait to him.

It was a good thing that they stopped at Winter Town to replenish because it would allow him some freedom to explore the lands beyond. He needed all the distraction he could afford, so he decided to escape the confines of his chambers so that he could ride to a place where he could be left to his thoughts.

As he finally traversed thorough the vast Northern lands just outside of Winter Town, he came across the most picturesque view his eyes had seen by far—the lake. It wasn't that large compared to all the other lakes he had seen in the South, but it was still breath-taking.

He could live here forever if time permitted. He'd live inside a cozy cottage in the woods with only himself, his beloved forge, and his livestock to think about. He'd gladly escape the future duties he had to the Iron Throne because he'd always wanted the simple life. Maybe this was attributed to the fact that he came from humble beginnings in Flea Bottom. Or to the notion that peace was more of a luxury for a highborn like him than a natural human right because of all the threats surrounding him and his father.

It was half an hour of wandering into the woods in his peaceful solitude when he heard the sound of a horse coming to the direction of the lake.

He immediately hid behind one of the trees that outlined the forest, leaving his destrier tied to a small tree near the lake.

A scrawny figure then materialized out of the brightness and approached his destrier curiously. Gendry squinted his eyes for a clearer look and realized that it was a young lad coming his way to touch his horse.

"Who goes there?" Came his deep and loud voice.

The lad was slightly taken aback causing him to move a step away as he hit his back on the tree. The small sword held by the lad surprised him.

"Where are you?" Came his voice. It sounded shaky. "Show yourself to me!" He demanded.

Something sounded off. Because he didn't really sound like a lad to him.

After his careful assessment and finally deeming him to be harmless, Gendry finally revealed himself. The lad's eyes bulged in utter surprise, perhaps at how large he seemed compared to the lad's scrawny built. He also noted a tinge of red blooming across the lad's cheeks, as if flustered or intimidated by him.

Gendry sauntered closer, his eyes continuing to observe him, especially his clothes. He was wearing an over-sized tunic underneath a boiled leather jerkin and breeches. Moreover, he noticed how refined his features were. That pale, pinkish and flawless skin was definitely unusual for a lad. He looked too clean for a boy his age.

What's more unusual were the growing curves he could make out from underneath his clothes.

They started engaging in a careful conversation around the huge oak tree, noticing yet again how his voice still hadn't broken out like the rest of the boys his age. He also looked too short for a boy of seven-and-ten.

All of a sudden, soft breeze came to pass through them that unraveled something very striking from the lad he was talking to—his scent. Gendry's nostrils flared as his scent engulfed him and he found himself entranced.

The scent was so… _heavenly_. _Inviting_. _Extraordinary_.

It was too delectable to belong to a lad's. He was sure of it. No boy would ever wear a scent like that. He just knew. And that's when it finally hit him—the person standing right before him was no mere lad, but a girl disguised as a boy.

Those curves hiding beneath her over-sized boy clothes were also too undeniable.

He suddenly wondered how she would look like when her hair was down and what her hair would feel like if he ran his fingers all over it. And then there were those grey eyes, such enticing and mysterious pair of eyes he had ever seen. He liked her eyes because they were not looking at him as if he was their personal conquest. She was looking at him because she was merely curious.

To top it all off, her scent gave away everything she'd been trying to conceal from him. She smelled of wild flowers and something uniquely her own. He couldn't help but get drawn to it like a loon, and he couldn't seem to get enough. He was helplessly attracted to her right that instant.

He was bewitched. And for some reason, he couldn't explain why. She didn't even look like all those other pampered ladies at court, but she already had him under her spell.

_ Who is she? And why is she posing as a stable boy from Winterfell?_

_Winterfell_.

That's where they were headed in a few days' time but for some reason he forgot the purpose why his father and the rest of the Baratheon guards were heading for Winterfell because all he could focus on right that moment was her presence.

As they continued talking by the lake, it was there that he discovered that her name was Arry. Even her name sounded alluring. Everything about her just seemed so… interesting. For a moment he forgot who he was supposed to be. He forgot that he was the crown prince of Westeros, he forgot that he was the heir to the Iron Throne.

For a moment, he forgot that he was betrothed.

With her, he was just himself.

He was just Gendry.

How he wished he could stay that way for the rest of his life—as free as her.

The reality of his betrothal suddenly occupied his thoughts when they both fell silent. It tasted like ash in his mouth when he attempted to open up about it. He just couldn't bring himself to confess to Arry that he was already promised to someone else, and he felt a pang in his heart.

Given the symptoms of what he'd suddenly been feeling, Gendry wondered if Northern women had that certain effect on Baratheon men because looking at this Northern woman sitting beside him today, he was surely smitten. Perhaps in the same way his father did with some deceased Northern highborn he was supposed to marry.

And when he watched her ride her horse as if she'd been doing it her entire life, he couldn't help but wonder if she rode men like how she gracefully did her horse.

_Fuck_.

Gendry's cock made a sudden twitch at the thought of being ridden by a wild, carefree girl like her. He was supposed to have already kept his urges at bay by coming to the lake, but getting to know her only awakened all his desires so that when he was back inside his tent that night, he milked himself to completion just by thinking about Arry and fucking her seven ways to Sunday.

Gods, he was such a pig for having those thoughts about her, but to hell with it. He never pretended to be a saint, anyway.

Gendry found it hard for sleep to come the night following his accidental discovery of who Arry really was. He tossed and turned on his sheets uncomfortably as his mind drifted to the minutes of their conversations. His conclusion about her being a girl at their first encounter was already a given, but who she actually was completely took the breath from his lungs.

Fate had a cruel way of mocking him, it seemed.

"_My name is Arya… of House Stark."_ Her words ringed inside his thoughts for the umpteenth time.

He was utterly, and completely fucked.

Arya Stark was his betrothed and he'd wanted her even before he knew who she was. The way her wavy dark brown hair hung loose below her shoulders only to frame the soft features of her face and the scent of her hair diffusing into his nostrils only strengthened his resolve of wanting her in all ways. And her mind, gods, her intellectual mind only brought his admiration for her to a whole new different level. She'd just brought herself a notch higher up his metaphorical pedestal of strong, amazing women.

He wanted to know more of her. Fuck, he would've wanted to marry her right away. But then again, he was aware that doing so would only make her stay farther away from him. It was already a given fact that Arya Stark never had any inclination to become a wife. It was evident enough in the way they discussed the invisible chains of nobility. And that's where the problem was. Because it would indeed be a challenge to win her completely.

He wasn't even certain if he'd live up to his twenty-third name-day because he was so sure already that Arya Stark would gut him the moment she'd know who he really was.

She would kill him in his sleep, that's for sure.

She's not some stupid, spineless fool who'd easily forgive him for concealing his identity from her. No, it was a known fact that she would fight him to the Seven Hells just to slap in his face the fact that he'd done her wrong.

Their betrothal was going to be so much fun. Not.

At least the only consolation he could see in this arrangement was holding their marriage off until Arya would flower, which apparently she hadn't yet. He might not be a saint, but he also wasn't a monster. He wouldn't wish upon her to suffer being forced to marry him just to strengthen some political alliances between their houses, so despite how much Gendry wanted to fuck Arya Stark, he also wanted to protect her from being hurt.

He slept that night with the anticipation of seeing her again tomorrow at Winterfell, albeit the inevitable revelation of who he really was.


	5. Chapter 5

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 5: Relapsing**

**Arya**

Arya was not sure how many times she'd been getting in and out of sleep. The only thing she could recall was Maester Luwin putting a damp cloth on her forehead every now and then. She suspected her body having succumbed to high fever after being soaked in the rain for a long time because she had been having the wildest dreams in her sleep, from having nightmares of some brutish prince forcing her to marry and bed him, to riding horses and staring up at intense blue eyes that felt like sin. Her body would feel so hot every time she woke to consciousness, she could have sworn her clothes were drenched in sweat.

A day had passed when her convalescent stage broke out.

She was awoken by the sound of wheels and horses in their courtyard, apart from voices of their household screaming something like making haste to get ready to meet their guests.

From the color of the skies outside her window, it must still be early in the morning. She tried to stir in order to get out from her bed but the abrupt movement only made her injured hand hurt like the Seven Hells. Looking at it, she noticed a new set of clean bandages wrapped securely around her palm.

A series of colorful expletives escaped her lips, albeit in a whisper.

It was when she went out of bedchambers that she noticed the sudden silence in the castle, all those voices from earlier suddenly became non-existent.

Her mind was still a bit disoriented, not having any idea as to what day it was, so she still could not put together what it was that made the castle seem like a ghost town. She had to lean her dominant bruised hand on the warm stone walls to steady her gait as her legs were still weak from being indisposed and bedridden.

No one actually came to greet her, much less reprimand her for getting out of her chambers in an indecent state. She walked along the halls of the lonely castle in an ensemble of only her thin white nightclothes, barefoot and her hair unbound.

No one was around at all. It was as if the entire castle was deserted.

For a moment, she dreaded the thought. But as her mind came to realize of its impossibility, she just dismissed it as something that would have to do with what was happening outside in the courtyard. So on she went to find out what was really going on.

As expected, everyone was lined up, without a word or whisper from their lips as their eyes were all trained to the spectacle in front of them.

Her family was standing in front of what appeared to be a carriage and a group of horses with guards from a different house. It had to be from a different house, considering the yellow and black colors that decorated the flags they were carrying and she was still too disoriented to ponder which house it belonged to.

When she stopped just right in front of the carriage to inspect the open door, she heard gasps behind her. It was Sansa's. Obviously. Because no one else gasped exaggeratingly like her sister.

She turned around to look back at her family, their faces holding different blatant expressions of being shocked to being mortified. She could count several disapproving looks as well.

Fuck. What had she done this time to earn them those faces?

A movement cause her eyes to turn to her right and saw a fat figure heading toward her direction. Wearing a crown.

A crown.

The reality of her situation finally dawned on her.

King Robert Baratheon.

In the name of all that was holy…

"Fuck!" She cursed again, this time in a soft whisper.

Her eyes widened at the realization.

They were arriving today?

It was too late for her to get back to her chambers and change into decent clothing now because she was already standing right in front of them.

Her eyes searched her mother and father, pleading in silent assistance as to how she could redeem herself in this embarrassing situation. They didn't give her anything, though. She was on her own this time.

At least she'd washed her face and cleaned her teeth before heading out of her rooms, there's that.

Swallowing the fat lump on her throat, she finally kneeled and spoke, schooling her face to look remorseful, "I beg your forgiveness, Your Grace. I didn't know you were arriving today. I just woke up from a long sleep after having succumbed to fever a few days ago."

She hoped to the gods that her curtsy was enough. It was all the social graces she could muster from years of attending lady lessons with their septa. She hoped she didn't disappoint.

She expected the king to shout at her for her outright obliviousness and stupidity and order his guards to send her to the dungeons, but she didn't expect the nonchalant reaction on his face toward her great blunder. She then felt the tug of her chin and his fingers brought her face to look at him, rising up to her feet in the process.

"So it's true, Ned." The King said, eyeing her as if she was someone so familiar, studying her endearingly. "She indeed resembles Lyanna, she's even more beautiful than her."

Arya blushed at the King's unexpected remark. She looked back at the King's blue eyes. There was a certain gleam in his blue eyes that seemed oddly familiar to her. She could have sworn she'd seen the same cerulean shade of those eyes in someone else.

"She's even as wild and as stubborn as my late sister, Your Grace." Her father added. "You would need to excuse her behavior. She just woke up after combatting her high fever following her _adventures_ under the rain."

The King 's loud and hearty laugh echoed around the courtyard.

"There's nothing to forgive, child. You have pleased me as much." The King told her, smiling at her and giving her a kiss on the forehead which made Arya flush in embarrassment.

The king continued to greet the rest of her family, leaving Arya more befuddled at the king's unexpected treatment of her.

As soon as Arya settled herself next to her brothers, she noticed a very familiar and brooding figure standing near the Kingsguards and a group of Baratheon men. He wore a very stolid look on his face, pretty much complimenting his massive frame. Then she felt familiar eyes gazing at her, only she could not yet put together who it was as he was standing a bit far from her range of clear vision.

But then, she noticed his lips curling knowingly at the sight of her. It was that damned signature smirk that gave him away. And there's everything else familiar about him that was slowly unfurling right before her very eyes—his thick raven hair, his hulking form… and those blue eyes.

She was broken from her silent scrutiny as the King spoke to her again, "Lady Arya, meet my son, your betrothed, Gendry Baratheon, first of his name, heir to the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms." The King introduced.

Of course there was the matter of her betrothed.

Wait, did he just say Gendry Baratheon?

Fucking great.

_That bloody bastard! He's been playing me for a fool all along! Fucking smith's apprentice, my arse_!

Everything that happened in the past few days suddenly surged in her stream of consciousness like a damn flood.

And the fact that Gendry played her for a fool only fueled the rage inside her.

She balled her hands into tight fists despite the pain from her injury, her blood boiling in irritation at the thought of being played at. She made sure to shoot her murderous glare at him, relaying to him know how pissed she was for being tricked. But his sinister smile only grew wider at her realization, reveling at the sight of what she must have looked like, standing there and looking like a bloody idiot for falling into his tricks.

_Wait till I get my hands on you, Prince Gendry Baratheon!_ She seethed in her thoughts.

The King's son finally sauntered to their direction in all its brooding glory. He looked much more different now that he was wearing proper royal clothes in the colors of house Baratheon.

He looked so regal.

Intimidating.

As he was already standing before her, it was there that she noted that he actually shaved his stubble, and his rich black hair was brushed up to emphasize his highly attractive features. Arya felt her breath hitch. That familiar yet unnamable feeling was back to haunt her at the sight of him threatening to weaken all her resolve.

She looked up so she could hold his smoldering gaze and tried her best not to falter.

She was taken aback when he reached for her right hand and kissed the back of her palm gingerly. A shock of electricity broke through the rest of her body the moment his skin touched hers, most especially his lips.

Her insides squirmed in lecherous jubilation.

_Well, shit. Damn my traitorous body._

They stared at each other for longer than what was necessary. And she couldn't help but notice how his large warm hand was still holding hers as if he was not yet ready to let go of it.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, Lady Arya." He greeted after finally letting go of her hand, that knowing smirk only growing wider.

Arya felt her jaw clench in anger at his tone. It was as if they didn't share something back in the lake with the way he was addressing her. But then again, they had to keep up with their facades, lest everyone here in the courtyard would know that they'd already been acquainted.

She felt her eye twitch as she feigned a sweet, empty voice, "It is a pleasure to meet you too, Your Grace."

Her sharp grey eyes bore into his as if making a solemn promise to kill him later.

She brazenly took back his hand and gave him a handshake, squeezing his hand in a firm grip until he could feel the pain. But he only looked at her without even the slightest wince at her gesture. He was obviously stronger and immune to her strength. But at least he was able to get the idea that she wasn't really pleased to see him at all.

It was as if his ice blue eyes were seeing the inner workings of her mind with the way he was looking at her. She felt naked to the bone.

A few more heartbeats later, she finally released his hand and broke away from his gaze.

"Take me to your crypts, I want to pay my respects." Arya heard the King tell her father after all the introductions were made.

Before the King and her father made their way to the crypts, her father turned to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Please escort the prince to his chambers, if you would be so kind, sweetling." Her father ordered her, giving her that knowing smile.

Arya raised an eyebrow at her father in question.

"How should I know where his grace's chambers are, Father?" She asked rather indignantly.

Her father chortled. "It's easy, love. It's next to yours. Go on then. His grace must be tired from his travels and might need some rest." She could have sworn she saw her father wink.

Arya couldn't help but roll her eyes on instinct, blowing out an irritated sigh.

"Let me lead you to your cozy and warm chambers, Your Grace, so that you may be allowed to rest from your long travels. If you would follow me." Arya seethed through gritted teeth, mocking a bow before she started walking back inside.

Arya noticed her brothers smirking furtively as she walked past them, her younger brothers included. She rolled her eyes again and gave Jon and Robb a subtle nudge on their ribs. They only ended up laughing more, careful enough to keep it to themselves.

"Thank you, my lady." Came the stupid statement of the stupid prince as he followed her inside the castle.

"Shut up, Your Grace." She didn't bother waiting for him as she continued to walk to the direction of their chambers. Gendry was walking behind her.

She heard him laughing mockingly at her outburst. His mocking earned him another disapproving look from her. "What's so funny?"

He finally caught up with her. "Nothing." Was all he said.

Arya didn't say another word as she found that goading him into a meaningless conversation would only annoy her more.

She was once again using her hand to lean on the stone walls to keep her balance as she felt her body weaken due to the cold. It was there that she remembered she was not actually wearing any shoes at all. Pain seared through her fresh wounds at the prolonged pressure she exerted from leaning on the wall that she finally flinched in pain.

"Are you alright, my lady? Does your hand still hurt that much?" The prince asked her. "And your feet must be cold." He noted matter-of-factly, looking down at her bare feet worriedly.

Arya snorted at his obvious observations.

"You can drop your pretenses now, Your Grace. We're alone right this instant just so you know. There's no need to pretend you care a sliver about my bloody hand or my cold feet." She told him stoically.

"I was not feigning concern, my lady. Seeing the condition of your hand, I know it must still badly hurt." He told her, equaling her tone. "And it's so cold here in the North. Why are you even walking around the castle barefoot?"

"None of your bloody business."

"It is my business!"

"Why?"

"Because you're my betrothed, and first and foremost, my friend!" Gendry answered.

Arya was afraid that it was genuine concern she was seeing on his honest face, but she dismissed it altogether in favor of her defiance to their betrothal.

"You really bought that bullshit? Well, let me make things clear to you, _Your Grace_. Just because we're betrothed doesn't mean that you're already allowed to lay claim to me and make me your business. I never mentioned accepting this farce, nor will I ever allow it!" She spat, her words like venom, before she turned away from him and resumed walking.

A few seconds after, she was already right back at his face. "And don't for one second think that I forgot how you had me played like a fool pretending to be some smith's apprentice back in the lake, so you can shove up our bloody friendship up your arse!"

It was Gendry's turn to glare at her. "Tell me, how would you exactly feel if I told you at that moment that I was the prince? Because knowing now how impulsive you could be, I was pretty much sure you'd execute me right then and there to spare yourself the trouble of enacting this marriage alliance."

Arya was speechless because he was actually right.

His gaze softened before he continued, "And don't discount my concern for you, my lady. I rarely express my worries to anybody else."

She closed her eyes as if to calm herself before she released a breath and opened them again, "I said don't patronize me, _Your Grace_. Just… shut up and let's get this over with, alright? The sooner this is over, the better."

"Gendry is actually fine, Lady Arya. You don't have to address me with my title all the time if you're not really comfortable with it. I, for one, despise titles and formalities."

Arya scoffed. "Fine! Then you can also stop calling me a lady!"

"As you wish, my lady." He winked before his impish grin was back on his stupid face, emphasizing the gorgeous dimple on his left cheek.

It took all of Arya's self-control not to punch him in the face with her other uninjured hand. Instead, she resorted to ignoring him as she continued walking.

It didn't take long before he started opening his big mouth again.

"I think your direwolf actually likes me, Arya." He noted, scratching the back of her wolf's ear without even fearing for his life as he walked side by side with her wolf. It's like they've been friends in forever and Arya was just a spectator.

It didn't immediately occur to Arya that Nymeria was following them suit. And just as Gendry said, her wolf seemed to actually like him because Nymeria was unusually unaffected by his presence. This fact greatly annoyed her because of all the times she'd wished Nymeria to act feral on her behalf, her wolf actually chose this time to act like a swooning fool at the sight of the prince.

Arya glared at her wolf at best and hissed, "Traitor!"

It earned another cackle from Gendry.

"Someone's jealous."

"Am not!"

"Well, if you actually stop being so grumpy then your wolf would actually prefer your presence more than mine."

"Nymeria is already well aware of all my moods, thank you very much. Now, you can go back to shutting up now." She countered.

"Nymeria…" Gendry trailed off. "That's a lovely name." Nymeria acted as if she liked hearing her name coming out of Gendry's lips because she started licking the hand that's caressing her. It didn't go unnoticed by Arya.

"Careful, now. I could actually have her rip you to pieces after I warg myself into her body if you don't shut the bloody hell up." Her lips lifted into an evil smile.

"Is that a threat? And can you even warg into an animal's body now?" The disbelief was evident in his face, so she had to switch topics before he could sense that she was just bluffing about the fact about warging.

"Why? Are you going to have your guards tie me to a pole and give me a good lashing for my treasonous mouth? Because I think that would be better than having to marry you."

He stood taller now that he closed the distance between them. "Oh, but the only one who's going to do the tying would be me… and I promise you it will be pleasurable rather than painful, you'd be screaming my name faster than you could say 'Nymeria.' If you catch my drift." He winked at her again, which only aggravated her more.

But, by the gods! Her body only gave a different reaction to his raspy, salacious suggestion. For some reason, there was something so delicious about hearing those dirty words.

Another damn traitor added to her list!

Nymeria and her treasonous body could go to hell.

"You're so infuriating!" Was all she said before she stormed away again with him following behind her.

"Why do you make it seem like it's all my fault that you're so miserable right now? I didn't make this betrothal, our fathers did. I also had no choice in this." He tried to ask her, his suggestive mood gone and making way for his serious face.

"Well at least try to act the part where you're actually opposed to this betrothal so that our fathers could see that we don't actually like what they are planning for us!"

"You think I haven't tried that back in King's Landing?" He shot back. "This contract is binding and absolute. There's nothing we can do about it."

"Well, unlike you, I don't lose hope. Because I'll do everything in my power to stop this stupid political alliance!"

Gendry huffed, "Good luck with that, then."

They both fell silent for the rest of their walk, both their moods turning sour until they finally reached the hallway where each of their bedchambers were located.

"This is where you will be staying, _Your Grace_." Arya told him impersonally before opening the door for him. "I'm just in the next room if you need any of my assistance, _Your Grace_."  
She curtsied in fake deference, her face devoid of any other emotion.

"There is no need to pretend that you show deferential respect for me, my lady." His glacial words stung for some reason.

"Let's just pretend we have the desired effect, shall we, _Your Grace_?" She told him sarcastically.

"Thank you, anyway, for your unadulterated kindness. Exchanging brutal words with you has indeed been fun. Looking forward to our verbal sparring in the next few days." He met her sarcasm with his own. Bowing his head in an equally mocking fashion, he added, "_My lady_."

He closed the door right in front of her face before she could even utter another word.

The nerve!

She would have bolted right inside his bedchambers and taught him a lesson if she wasn't so bloody sick right now.

Instead, she headed to her own rooms to resume her much needed recuperation.

**Gendry**

That evening, the Stark household threw a grand welcoming feast for the royal family. They feasted on roasted pork and beef, and an abundant ration of poached potatoes and salads, all grown from the glass gardens of Winterfell. The feast was also overflowing with wine, as evidenced by the full cups of everyone who would like to indulge.

Gendry found himself impressed with their wide array of courses that he ate to his fill as if it was the last meal of his life, giving in to the comforts of his current seat at the dais right beside his father, along with the Starks and his uncle, Renly.

He'd long given up his search for his betrothed altogether in favor of Winterfell's tastiest courses as it was already evident that she was never going to show up. Per the reports of the maids assigned to attend to her needs, she'd been inside her bedchambers since that morning after having another bout of her fever.

A wave of concern loomed deep inside his gut, but he had to force it down to the depths and entrust her recovery to the maester. He also didn't want to make it seem like he was already obsessed with her, not when she just showed him outright signs of her disapproval toward their impending matrimony only this morning. It wouldn't seem right to be already pining for her when she hated him with a passion.

But, by the gods, she was already beginning to become a constant in his thoughts. Haunting him with her alluring mystery.

Instead of wallowing in his useless unrequited longing, he allowed himself to get more acquainted with the other Starks including Jon and their Greyjoy ward, Theon. They didn't seem so bad after all now that he was already engaged in meaningful conversations with them. Gendry realized that they were a better company compared to the other pompous lords and ladies back at the Red Keep.

It was already well in the middle of the night when he excused himself from the Great Hall in favor of heeding to the call of his body for rest.

He'd passed by a fair number of other ladies in the halls throwing themselves at his feet through their subtle indecent proposals, a couple even inviting him to bed them at the same time. It sounded quite appealing for his cock since he'd been known to fuck two women at once back in King's Landing.

For some reason, the idea was so tempting that it could also serve as retribution against his betrothed for practically treating him like shit during their arrival, but then again, he didn't want to cause a scandal while they were here. If anything, he was supposed to woo her, not try to rile her more by fucking other women. Besides, he wasn't a complete arsehole. He still had respect for this alliance even if everything wasn't formally written yet.

His feet led him to the forge instead of heading straight to his chambers to rid himself of the very open temptation. The forge always had that effect of clearing his mind every time something conflicted him. And that night, it never failed him.

It was still warm inside. The embers just recently fading out, the warmth emanating all over the smithy and giving a subtle glow. As no one was inside, he savored the feeling of running his hands over the familiar tools he was already used to.

Peace finally found his thoughts as he remembered what it felt like to belong.

Unfortunately, his silent reverie was cut short when he felt someone stir behind him, those years of intensive training for combat and battle finally paying off. He kept his guard up but he didn't face the person disrupting his peace.

"What are you doing?" Came the familiar yet indignant voice of no one else but the current _favorite_ of his thoughts.

With the threat gone, he allowed a few more seconds to continue trailing his hands along the hammers on the wall before finally facing her. "Just familiarizing Winterfell's forge, is all." Was his matter-of-fact retort.

There was a flash of irritation on her face, yet Gendry still found it endearing altogether. "Why? Did you plan on pretending to be a smith's apprentice here in Winterfell, too, and fool the smallfolk into believing you're really one of them? You're obviously no blacksmith, _Prince Gendry Baratheon_." There was pure disdain with the way Arya Stark said his name.

"Why do I feel like I have to bathe whenever you address me with my name, My Lady?" He told her, "And for the record, I was a smith's apprentice back in the Streets of Steel in King's Landing, where the previous Hand of the King found me many years ago. Ergo, I was one of the smallfolk. I still would have been had my father not legitimized me and made me his heir. So, you see, I wasn't really lying to anyone, especially to you. Being a blacksmith is my first trade." He explained, his eyes raking her form hungrily.

She was wearing her usual white nightclothes underneath her grey cloak. It still didn't stop his cock from stirring inside his breeches. Her scent when she slowly closed the distance between them only reinforced his growing need to fuck her, betrothed or no.

"It still won't change the fact that you tried to hide who you really are from me, despite you knowing who I was."

A sigh of resignation passed his lips, "I'm sorry, alright?"

"No, you're not."

"Let me make it up to you, then. Let's just start over because I don't want to ruin what we had in that lake." He offered good-naturedly. God, he sounded so fucking desperate.

Arya contemplated for a moment, nibbling a side of her lip in the process. He wished he was the one biting that lip instead.

_Fuck_, he cursed internally.

"Let's settle this over a duel. Tomorrow morning. Before sunrise." Arya suggested with an air of arrogance. "And while we're at it, let's put a wager."

Gendry couldn't hide the incredulity written all over his features and snorted at her proposal. He raked over her frail attributes again. He had to make sure that what he was seeing was real. Because at that moment, she still looked sick to him.

Arya crossed her arms on her chest. "You scared, Baratheon?" She challenged.

Gendry burst into gales of mocking laughter. "It's not that I'm scared. It's just that, how can you fight me tomorrow if you hardly look healed right now? You're still weak from your illness, Arya."

"I'll be fine tomorrow, I swear." Came her dismissive retort. But then she made the mistake of turning away from him in favor of heading back to the door. The sudden movement caused her to lose her balance.

Gendry anticipated the movement and he was immediately on his feet to catch her.

"Now, see, this is what I meant. You're still sick. Come back with your wager when you've fully recovered, and I'll agree to the duel." He said, his voice now gentle as he carefully placed one hand under her knees and the other under her arms, lifting her up and carrying her as if she barely weighed a thing.

Arya was startled by his gesture that she had no choice but to put her arms around his neck. Leaning her head on his chest in the process as if holding on to dear life.

"Fuck, Gendry, at least tell me you're going to do that. You had me caught unawares."

"Sorry…" He apologized as he started heading back outside and into the castle toward her chambers.

Arya pulled away slightly to look up at him, the fire in her eyes from earlier slowly dying down as her body was slowly giving in to her weakness. "The view from up here's really different…" She noted innocently, her gaze lingering in his eyes before she averted to their surroundings. It was as if she was seeing the world in a whole new different perspective from this height.

It earned a smile from him. "I'm not really that tall, Arya. You're exaggerating."

"Yes, you are. You're the tallest person I know."

"Or you're just one, short little person." He winked, his smile growing wider.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not my fault I was born shorter than my siblings."

"Whatever you say…"

"The bet is still on, by the way. When I'm healed, we'll fight." She said, switching back to their topic prior to the interruption.

"What do you want if you win?" He asked out of sheer curiosity.

There was that wicked smirk again. "If I win, you'll help me talk to our fathers about breaking off this engagement. And you're going to use all your princely powers in making sure that our betrothal will not push through. As a bonus, I'll help you find another suitable bride to marry."

He nodded in agreement, albeit begrudgingly. He didn't like her wager but it's not like he had a say in her choice, anyway. Guess he'd just have to beat her when the time came for them to fight.

"How about you? What will you get out of this if you win?" It was her turn to ask him, watching him with large, round eyes. Those grey orbs were distracting him at best.

Sinful lust glinted in his eyes and he could have sworn he felt her heartbeat racing as her chest came in contact with his. "You." Was all he said, as if in a trance.

"Bullshit."

"I'm not bullshitting you. When I win, I'll have you under my will. You'll do anything as I please. Anything. I. Want." He whispered, his lips only an inch from her ear.

"_If_ you win." She corrected. "And what kind of power play is that? That sounds too absolute. Aren't there any restrictions as to what you want me to do for you?"

"We'll discuss the terms _when_ I win, Arya." Was all he told her.

"_If_, Gendry. _If_ you win."

They reached Arya's bedchambers with a silence wrapped in obvious tension.

Gendry carefully laid Arya on her featherbed, tucking her blanket over her chest after removing her boots, then he adjusted the burning flames in her fireplace. He sat on her bed as soon as the room was warmer.

"You didn't have to do this, you know." She muttered with half-closed eyes, her voice almost inaudible.

"I wanted to." He confessed, more to himself than her.

Arya's lips curled to a weak lop-sided grin. "Whatever you say, Gendry. Now, get out of here and leave me in peace. I still have to recuperate for our future duel." She managed to tell him before closing her eyes.

"As you wish, my lady." He reluctantly stood.

He carefully waked back into the hall before anybody else caught him getting out of her bedchambers.

He then sought the maester of the castle with haste to ensure that his betrothed was attended to accordingly.


	6. Chapter 6

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 6: Convalescing**

**Gendry **

Arya's illness caused her to be confined to her chambers for another more week since the arrival of the Southerners in the North. Her absence allowed Gendry the opportunity to be immersed with the Northern culture, which he found more forgiving than what he'd been accustomed to in the South.

He made sure to observe the practices of the lord of Winterfell in terms of holding court and attending to his subjects as their liege lord. Every now and then, Gendry would also lead several council meetings with the king, Renly, Lord Stark and Robb to tailor him for his future duties to the kingdom. It was a tedious job, but he had no choice.

He found that he needed all these kinds of activities to keep his thoughts away from Arya while she was recuperating. He'd done a poor job of it, though, especially at night when only a single wall separated him from her. Nevertheless, he'd been doing his best to keep his impulses (and his cock) at bay.

Apart from his compulsory duties as the crown prince, Gendry also made sure to spend his time getting to know more of Arya's siblings, especially Robb and Jon, and even Theon. He attended classes with them at the maester's solar, sparred and practiced swords with them while he taught her younger siblings some swordfighting skills he learned from his master-of-arms back in King's Landing.

As for Sansa, he'd succeeded in earning her good graces by making sure to include her in their conversations about the South, most especially about what he knew of Highgarden and her betrothed. The strategy didn't fail for he had Sansa opening up to him as if they'd been friends for a long time.

It was good to have a platonic friend of the opposite sex, he realized, because it gave him more understanding about the nature of women and how to treat them right. Unfortunately, he never had female platonic friends anymore back in the capital because they'd always end up in his bed and after a night or two of carnal delights and after which demand more than what he could give, namely a ring on their finger and a child in their womb. They always seemed to have ulterior motives apart from the supposed _normal_ friendship they were advertising.

In an overall sense, having been afforded this chance to travel up North felt like coming home.

Another three more days passed without seeing Arya within the castle walls. Until one morning, as Gendry was attending history lessons along with the Starks inside the maester's cozy solar, the door suddenly bolted open which caused Sansa to jump in her seat.

They were all startled to see Arya standing at the door, her face flushed perhaps from the exertion of climbing the stairs to get there.

She received a subtle reprimand from Maester Luwin regarding how to knock properly before barging in, but it was forgotten altogether when Arya informed him that she was there to finally attend and catch up with the lessons she had missed during her illness.

Judging from the way she looked, Gendry knew that her fever was completely gone. She was wearing her usual tunic and breeches and her hair was kept in a messy bun, just like how he saw her the first time at the lake.

"It's good to see you today, Arya. Please come inside, you haven't missed much." Maester Luwin said, finally welcoming her into his solar.

Arya regarded her maester tentatively before her eyes roamed around the room. Gendry noted her mood turning sour the moment her eyes landed on his. For some reason, he took satisfaction in riling her up that day because at least he still had a certain effect on her.

In a heartbeat, she flashed him a feral scowl. He couldn't help but shoot back a devilish but charming smile at her, much to her irritation.

God, he missed how adorable she was.

"You may take your seat beside his grace, Arya." Instructed her maester upon noticing that Gendry wasn't sitting beside anyone else.

Being the tallest in the class, he had to be seated at the back part of the room. Arya rolled her eyes in annoyance but sat beside him, anyway.

The maester continued discussing the history of Westeros with everyone listening attentively save for the two of them.

"Good morning, my lady. Feeling better now?" Gendry whispered very close to her ear.

He took some time to inhale her scent while he spoke to her, smelling deliciously divine that he wanted to lick every part of her until she'd cream herself to pleasure at the flick of his skillful tongue.

God, how his cock ached at the dirty thought.

She gave him a curt yet sarcastic smile in acknowledgement. "Never better, Your Grace."

"That's good then. I've been meaning to tell you that I've been practicing with your brothers. Their sword fighting skills are impressive, even exceeding mine, to be honest." He told her in a hushed tone so as not to let the others hear their conversation.

"If that's the case, then you're ready for our duel. Tomorrow." Came her smug response.

"Oh, but tomorrow's hardly fair, though. You've just been indisposed for a few days. Allow yourself a day or two to practice first to ensure that our duel runs fair and square. I don't want you saying you've lost because you haven't had some practice." He retorted casually.

Arya narrowed her eyes, earning him that reproachful glare.

"Don't be such a cunt, Gendry. I've been practicing my whole life. I don't need a day or two. I just need to get this over with." Came her arrogant retort.

He snorted dismissively.

"How can I be a cunt if I haven't got any, Arya? Want to see what I've got?" He equaled her tone but making sure to keep it low or else the maester would definitely hear them bickering.

To do this, he had to incline himself closer to her so that his lips were now almost touching her ear. He swore that he could sense Arya shuddering at his closeness.

Good.

He'd been so caught up with her unbidden reaction that he didn't notice her kicking his shin for good measure right after she finally regained composure. The painful reality shot to his leg the moment he realized what just happened.

"Fuck!" He cursed through gritted teeth.

"Shut up." She hissed angrily.

"That bloody hurt!" He groaned in pain as he touched the part where she kicked him.

Arya rolled her eyes.

"See? That just proves how much of a soft cunt you are. And how ready I am to fight with you tomorrow." Triumph was etched on her features.

"Oh, you bloody know I'm not some cunt. I'd be glad to show you what I really got later. I'm very certain that you'll love it." He told her dangerously as he was looking intently into her eyes, the innuendo in his words as clear as day.

"Oh, and I'm pretty much certain that I'm not interested!" Her voice was evidenced by indignation, but her body could not hide the flush spreading on her cheeks. That much was obvious.

Grinning, he retorted, "Not interested? You might change your mind once you see how loaded I am." He smugly whispered, winking at her. Oh, how he loved teasing her like this.

She obviously understood his innuendo as evidenced by her sudden breathlessness.

Smart girl.

"You're still a fucking cunt, Gendry." She deadpanned, albeit almost speechlessly.

"Arya, Your Grace, do you want to share what you've been discussing to the rest of the class?" Maester Luwin called out when he noticed their short commotion at the back.

One by one, the rest of Arya's siblings including Theon began turning around to look at them. Sansa was hiding her girlish squeals under her smile while her older brothers were smirking at them knowingly. Theon wasn't even discreet in flashing his signature impish grin.

"My apologies, Maester Luwin, Arya was just telling me earlier how much she wanted to see what I have got—" He was cut off when Arya nudged on his ribs painfully, robbing the air out of him.

God was he even attracted to her brutality. She was definitely something.

"I was just telling his grace how good he is with his _sword_, it's making me swoon at his feet like a proper little lady, Maester Luwin." Arya interrupted him, sarcasm dripping every word, the innuendo clear enough.

"Lady Arya was just telling me how excited she is to see my _big _sword, Maester Luwin. I told her that she could _play_ with it if she wanted to. She'd definitely enjoy it because it's so _big _she couldn't even hold it with one hand alone." He equaled her tone and sarcasm as he played along.

The rest of her siblings were now silently laughing in their seats.

They were all silenced when the maester cleared his throat.

"It is not proper to be violently hurting others, my lady, especially if it's the prince and your betrothed. You can talk about swords later after this class." Maester Luwin chastised.

Whether the maester read into their insinuation or not was already beyond him. Luwin's face remained impassive, however, as he resumed his discussion as if his class wasn't just interrupted.

Gendry was silently laughing in his seat but he was laughing so hard that he could feel his eyes tearing up. God, he hadn't laughed like this in a long time, he realized.

Arya was also holding back her laughter as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. He noticed her rolling her eyes playfully before flashing him her middle finger while hiding it beside her temple so that only Gendry could see the vulgar gesture.

Another hour and a half passed before their morning lessons finally ended with the maester giving them a checkup assessment on what they learned that day. They were each given a piece of parchment and quills. Since Gendry was seated beside Arya, they had to share their ink pots.

As he began to write on his parchment, he suddenly felt Arya on his right, nudging his elbow with hers as if she was asking him to give more space to write.

He gave her a confused look until he finally realized why. "I never knew that you write with your left hand, my lady." He whispered, smirking.

"I'm so pleased to know that your eyes are still working properly, Your Grace. An outstanding observation, really." Was her sardonic retort as she continued writing on her parchment without even looking at him.

Her handwriting was barely legible, the worst he'd seen even, but it was still adorable, nonetheless.

Arya's unusual dexterity was rather astounding that her rarity even afforded her another notch higher up in Gendry's pedestal of admiration. Indeed, she was not like everyone else.

He was transfixed by the movement of her hand as he continued to observe her, a stupid smile plastered on his face.

"What?" She snapped as she caught him unawares.

"Nothing. Just carry on."

"Mind your own paper, please."

He could no longer hide the way he was looking at her. Was she aware that there was already something stirring between them?

Gendry badly wanted her to feel that _something_, hoping that she could reciprocate his outright flirtations_. _

"Seven Hells, what is it?" She asked again.

Losing all resolve this time, he closed the distance by leaning in to her ear once more and whispering, "It's just that, you're becoming very interesting to me now, Arya Stark. You see, I just can't seem to keep my mind off you, I don't even have a bloody reason why. You're driving me mad and you don't want me going insane. Do you want to know why?"

The bobbing of her throat was audible enough for him to hear. "Why is that?" Her voice seemed choked, if anything, she was obviously affected by his words.

"Because I tend to do things when I'm insane."

She still refused to move nor look at him, obviously focusing on regulating her heavy breathing. "What kind of things?"

A secret, wicked smile spread on his lips. "Dirty, delicious things, my lady. It's going to be so sinfully filthy, you won't be able to resist it."

She was caught off-guard by his words that he took advantage of her speechless state to brush his lips softly at the junction between her ear and sensitive neck, allowing his tongue a small lick just so that he could have a taste her goodness, if only for a sliver, before inhaling her scent insatiably.

God, he was so fucked, he could no longer help himself. He had to get away from her before he could fuck her senseless on the desk.

Arya remained frozen in her seat as she stared at him with indecision in her eyes, thoroughly flushed and utterly robbed off her breath. She hadn't even noticed her long fingers clawing at the wood on the surface of their desk, the quill on her left hand broken into two as his lecherous words wormed its way into her system.

Regretfully pulling his gaze away from her, he finally stood up and asked to be excused, informing the maester that he'd just deliver his assessment after attending to his bladder needs, all while his turgid cock was straining inside his breeches.

He almost ran to his bedchambers if not for the people inside the castle.

As he reached his rooms, he locked his door before grabbing his stiff cock out of his breeches and fucking himself with his sorry hand while fantasizing about actualizing all those filthy things he'd do to her. A moan escaped his lips as he came so hard to thoughts of Arya, his entire large hand was covered with his seed while the rest came dripping down the floor.

Fuck. All this come could have looked so beautiful creaming out of her glistening cunt after fucking her to her own climax. And perhaps he would lick her to another orgasm until she was again dripping wet and ready to take him once more.

Oh dear god, he was going to the Seven Hells for what he'd just done.

**Arya **

Their attraction for each other was undeniable and mutual. That much was clear.

He wanted her, and much to her sheer surprise, she wanted him more, and fuck her to the Seven Hells for finally admitting what had been her denials the first time she'd lain her eyes on him.

Betrothed or not, she wanted him so bad. Prince or not, she was hopelessly pining for him. And she hated it at the same time.

And his words… god, those filthy, sinful words were doing something to her body. As if her body was seeking a release that was still so foreign to her, she had yet to discover how get it out of her system.

But one thing's for sure, Gendry Baratheon was one piece of shit for making her feel this way, and she swore to the non-existent gods that he'd pay for it. He'd pay for making her want him despite her opposition to this stupid alliance.

She'd punish him by seducing him in her own little ways, making him want her even more and then leaving him with blue balls instead.

Let's see how being cockteased would make him feel.

Arya wasn't really privy to carnal thoughts because she's proud to admit that she'd had her fair share in the art of seduction, albeit subtle. Being a wide reader herself, secretly perusing over erotic books back then had been a welcome diversion for her when she was bored of attending lessons with her septa. Oftentimes, she'd hide in the library as she'd get lost in ideas about sex and carnal desires. In fact, she'd learned more from those books than the poor excuse they called sex education. The censorship was too exaggerated, one would think coitus was only limited to the purpose of procreation rather than acknowledging pleasure as a basic need among humans.

The norm dictated that a lady did not have the right to desire nor feel such pleasure from sex. She only ever had to spread her legs for her husband and bear their babes for nine months as her duty to society. There ought to be no pleasure in reproduction because a woman's place should be in the shadow of her husband as a submissive wife and dutiful mother, and nothing more.

Fucking pathetic.

Apparently, Arya wanted the raw and uncensored ways of learning about sex. If she was to be traded off to some lord (or to her horror now, some prince) like some cattle, then she was going to do it right for her sake. At least she wouldn't be wasting her precious life not having to know what it felt like to take pleasure in sex.

And right now, she had a mission to do. This was no longer going to be instilling theoretical knowledge, this was the entire bloody application of what she had learned from those books.

She only had to apply it to herself in order to know what it felt like. And what better moment than this, now that she found someone who's attracted to her as much as she was attracted to him.

This should be a fun game to play.

Fuck propriety. Her family brought this upon themselves for hiding this betrothal to her until the last minute. Now, she was going to have her fun while waiting to fuck up this farce of an alliance once and for all.

Two more days passed after Arya had another encounter with the prince. Following what had transpired between them inside the maester's solar, she found it necessary to avoid him at all costs, lest she lose all her control and jump on him the first chance she got. That, or ride him like she was riding a horse, only this time, she'd be grinding on his lap as she straddled him while trying to figure out how to find her release.

Shit.

See, it was these kinds of dirty, forbidden thoughts that made her get up from bed earlier than the rest of the castle because she was finding it harder to control herself, much less her impulses. And the prince's quarters were not far from hers. She might as well just give in to her temptations and bolt inside his room to have a sample of what he tasted like.

Sweat trickled down at the juncture between her breasts as she tried to sweep those thoughts away, sword in hand as she positioned herself in her familiar fighting stance.

It was in this very position that Gendry found her in the yard all by herself. It was still dark, just a few hours shy of the first rays of the sun.

"Why are you up so early, my lady?" His deep yet sultry voice broke the silence as he slowly sauntered to her direction.

Arya stood straight as she faced him impassively. She couldn't afford to lose her resolve again in front of him. "I slept early last night, Your Grace. I can't sleep any more than I had to. I've had enough of resting while I was convalescing."

They were back to being formal again, and she thought it was a good start.

"So now you're here, practicing…" He observed all while his intense eyes were devouring her.

She was well aware of his burning gaze sweeping up her clothes, from the breeches she was wearing to the loose white shift that had a few buttons opened at the top. Surely he didn't miss the way her décolletage was slightly exposed. By the glint of his eyes, it was obvious he enjoyed the view.

She had this all planned out in the event that he'd catch her practicing about in the yard such as now. Clearly, she didn't disappoint. A wicked smile slowly wound its way to her lips.

"Yes, Your Grace. Would you like for us to have our duel now? Especially that it's just the two of us with the rest of Winterfell still sleeping." She asked in a rather innocent manner.

But it would do him well to remember that nothing was ever innocent with Arya Stark. Even this interaction was all calculated.

"That would be a good idea, my lady. I've been dreaming of this day to come, to see you defeated with my sword. And then I'd be happy to cash in that wager of ours."

"Oh, I'm quivering with anticipation, Your Grace." Her sarcasm was imminent so might as well use it to her advantage.

She didn't waste time grabbing two wooden swords from the weapons table (she had to choose wooden swords over the real ones because she didn't want to get in trouble with hurting the prince with an actual sword and be accused of treason, not when they still had a wager to settle), and practically throwing one at him unawares, only to have him catch it with his agile hand.

Fuck.

He'd told her days ago that her brothers were much better than him. But judging from the way he caught the sword, it was obvious that he was just too humble to admit his ability.

Well, there was only one way to find out, wasn't it?

"Let's have our duel in the godswood, Your Grace, so that the gods may bestow upon us their blessings." Her mocking tone was unnoticed for he only countered her tempestuous smirk with his own wicked grin.

"As you wish, my lady. Lead the way." Came his response, mocking a bow as she passed by him and started heading toward the godswood.

They walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, and before they knew it, they were already there.

They didn't waste time with any more pleasantries. The moment Arya stopped and turned around to face him, she was already at him with her own sword.

But Gendry seemed to read into her moves because he was immediately able to parry when she tried to bring her sword down upon him.

They looked at each other with determination as they had their swords inches before their faces, trying to hold down each other with their strength.

"I dare say you're quite strong, Lady Stark." Gendry commented through gritted teeth.

It earned a triumphant grin from her. "Patronizing me won't bring you victory, Your Grace, so I suggest you shut up and keep up with this fight."

Before Gendry could say his retort, she was already kicking his leg, causing him to lose balance and fall on his back. She heard him grunt in pain.

Good.

She started to attack him again before he could get back on his feet, but before she could hit him with her sword, she was thrown back when he channeled all his strength to his sword to push her away. He was relentless in charging at her in seconds, but she was able to parry his attack with her sword instinctively, the weapon only a few inches before her face. If it was a real steel sword with a much heavier weight, she'd have her face cut in half by now.

He was stronger than her, obviously, but she was quicker. So she used that to her utmost advantage every chance she got.

Arya mustered all of her strength to push him away before she scurried to her feet and positioned herself again to her fighting stance.

They had been going at it for what felt like an eternity now, both of them sweating and catching their breaths, refusing to yield for the sake of the wager they'd put in to this duel.

Arya refused to accept defeat, and apparently, so did Gendry.

What did he want with her, anyway, that he was so determined to win against her?

Maybe he marveled at the satisfaction of having her to his beck and call. She'd be his slave, and he was more than willing to slap that fact to her face.

_Fucking Gendry_, she cursed internally.

Only the sounds of their wooden swords clanging could be heard in the godswood, accompanied by each of their heavy breathing.

"Fuck, Stark. You're stronger than I expected. Actually, stronger for a girl your height and built. You never really did fit the mold of the usual ladies I see in court." Gendry noted in between breaths, sweat dripping down his roguishly handsome face.

She didn't miss the fact that he hadn't shaved yet. It only made him look so delectable. She wanted to devour him. Or better yet, she wasn't really quite sure now if she wanted to fuck him or kill him for that matter. Nevertheless, she had to focus because he was gaining on her again.

Shit.

The stupid idiot never seemed to want to give up.

"Of course, I am strong, Baratheon. You shouldn't mistake me for one of those simpering fools prancing about in castles, waiting to win the attention of some equally idiotic lord. Or _prince_." The last word was uttered with repulsive venom.

"But you are wrong. You'd draw the attention of every male in the land for being so different from the rest. Even if you are unaware of it yourself." He replied as they went on with their fighting. Something about those words seemed so honest, judging from the look on his face.

But she dismissed the thought as a false compliment. He would never think of her that way. Perhaps to him, she was just another conquest, a challenge for his male pride to win over a difficult lady just so that he could put another notch on his bedpost.

"Are you so stupid as to think small talking me while fighting you would divert my attention, Baratheon? You think I'd fall for that strategy?" At that, she added another kick on his side for good measure, making him grunt in pain again. His knees gave out as he knelt on the ground, sword still on hand.

"Fuck." He cursed at the pain, holding his side with his empty hand.

An arrogant chortle escaped her lips.

"What a fucking cunt." She remarked, stretching herself at a distance despite her already aching muscles just to taunt him.

She never had the mouth of a saint, anyway, so why should she keep up her pretenses in front of this prince? "You're such a fucking little girl, Baratheon. My little female cousin has more spunk than your sorry arse." She mocked.

Gendry glowered at her murderously, finally riled up by her baseless goading. He was still on his knees as he tried to regain his strength, panting as if he'd just ran for a thousand miles.

"Stand up, we're not done yet." Came her authoritative tone. She was commanding him as if he wasn't the prince of the entire realm.

He remained silent as he slowly rose to his feet again. There was something so dangerous about him this time that Arya could not place. She could feel his growing rage like steam billowing in the air. She felt naked once more under the scrutiny of his murderous eyes. He looked like he wanted to strangle her with his bare hands. Or perhaps devour her raw with his ravenous mouth and teeth. But for some reason, she was drawn to the kind of danger he possessed. It was a certain kind of heated want and arousal forming at the pit of her stomach and between her legs. She suddenly wanted him to quench those unbidden desires.

A vacuous silence passed between them, allowing the chill of the morning air to cool their rising tempers.

Arya was about to position herself once more but before she knew it, he was on the move again. This time, he moved like the wind, catching her unawares. The hand holding his wooden sword was so quick that she didn't anticipate his moves, and the next thing that registered in her mind was that of her aching body lying on the ground. She laid on her back with him on top of her.

He just disarmed her and she didn't even know it.

Her breath fell short as she felt the hilt of his sword on her neck, with Gendry's face already inches from hers.

The fucker was even smiling in wicked triumph.

"I win, Lady Stark." He whispered in his dangerous voice. "I just disarmed you. You lose."

She continued to look up into those eyes, speechless and breathless.

She'd never thought he'd be that quick.

Fuck.

Then reality dawned on her.

She lost their bet.

She fucking lost their fight.

And Gendry was still on top of her, adamant to stay in this position as his eyes continued to bore into her, slowly penetrating into her soul and taking all her resolve. The weight of his body didn't seem to affect her. In fact, he felt so warm, she wanted to stay underneath him forever. He was as warm as the forge.

The duel seemed forgotten in time as they were both lost in each other. Something was brewing deep inside them, she could just feel it. The tension was that thick, too strong that she could taste it in her tongue.

She unconsciously licked her lips as her eyes traveled down to his own parted lips. She could feel his warm breath on hers, making her throat go dry and her heart hammer faster than she'd like to admit.

God, why did he have to be so fucking attractive?

She was that close to attacking those lips. And for the first time in her life, she wanted to claim her first kiss from his sinful, beautiful lips.

But then she noticed his bewitched eyes returning to its normal glimmer as he blinked back to reality, and before she knew it, he was already pulling himself away from her, his weight feeling like a total loss now that it was far from her aching body.

For some reason, she felt the pang of his rejection hitting her. It made her feel uncomfortable. Maybe because she thought he wasn't really interested in her in that way.

"We should head back. It's almost dawn and the rest of Winterfell is about to wake up." Was all he said, his tone as cold as the winter snow. He held out his hand for her to take.

Despite how inviting his offer was, she didn't take it and instead stood up on her own.

"Fine. You fought fair enough." She told him dismissing his latter statement, although with acid in her tone.

Their fair fight notwithstanding, she was still a sore loser. She always hated losing. That much was a secret she didn't want everyone else to know. Besides, she rarely ever lost to her brothers.

More importantly, she could still taste the growing bitter feeling of his sudden rejection in her gut.

She turned her back away from him and gathered their wooden swords before heading back to the practice yard.

It was only until they were back in the empty halls of the castle that Gendry broke the silence.

"If I won our fight, then why does it seem like you're not fully accepting of my victory?"

Arya didn't respond, and instead, wallowed in her own misery for being such a fucking sore loser.

"Arya, what's wrong?" Gendry tried again.

She wasn't really in the mood to talk right now. She was no longer even sure if it's because of his outright rejection for what could have possibly happened earlier while he was on top of her, or because she was defeated by him. But one thing was certain, she was humiliated at best.

Fuck. There's nothing worse than her ego being trampled upon by the shame of defeat and rejection.

"Arya?" Came Gendry's voice again.

She finally stopped walking in order to face him.

"I'm fine." Was all she said before looking away.

"You don't look fine to me. Tell me what's wrong." He demanded.

"I said I was fine!" She bared her teeth at him.

"Why do you look so angry? You lost. I won. We fought fair and square." He stated matter-of-factly. She didn't say a word, but the look on her face might as well be her dead give away.

"Wait. Don't tell me you're being a sore loser." He noted, as if he just got the answers to the universe. There was a devilish glint in his eyes.

She huffed in plain annoyance.

"By the gods, Arya Stark is a sore loser." He began to tease.

Fucking Gendry and his big fucking mouth.

"Shut up, Gendry." Was all she said.

"Oh come on, my lady! That's hardly fair that you're sulking for losing over a proper fight."

"Oh, don't be such a stupid cunt, Your Grace." She seethed as she continued along the lonely halls of the castle.

It only earned a hearty laugh from him.

_He's never going to stop shoving it in my face that I'm being such a sore loser right now, is he?_ she thought.

"We both know I don't have a cunt, Arya. So you can stop calling me that." He warned, albeit playfully as he walked behind her.

"But you're still being a stupid twat, Gendry."

"What did you say?"

She stopped walking altogether to face him, holding her chin up defiantly as she looked into his eyes without falter.

"Don't. Be. Such. A. Stupid. Cunt. Your. Grace." She told him, punctuating every word as she pointed a finger to his chest. "You're more stupid than all the cunts combined in the whole of Westeros." She added with a satisfied grin on her face.

At this, Gendry pushed her with his brutish strength, pinning her to the wall. She didn't even notice that he already had her wrists held tightly above her head using only one big hand.

"You know you shouldn't insult people who are a lot bigger than you." His seething voice sent shivers up her spine, even more so when he drew closer to her face.

She practically squirmed under the heat of his molten gaze.

"Then I don't get to insult anyone!" She spat angrily, writhing under his strong hold. "Let me go, Gendry!"

But tried as she might, her combined strength was helpless against his. Gendry only gave her a complacent look, even almost bored.

"I will if you stop calling me a cunt. You know better that I'm not. I can even gladly prove it to you. Right here, right now."

"Yes, you are." Came her stubborn insistence.

At her retort, he only held her wrists tighter, his other hand violently grasping her jaw so that she couldn't pull away from his imposing gaze.

She felt so tiny in his hands. Nevertheless, she felt exhilarated by all of it. Even the way he was holding her jaw like he was about to punish her shot a jolt of pleasure between her legs.

_Please_, her traitorous mind suddenly pleaded.

"Let me go." Her contradictory words seemed mechanical, rendering them useless under the heat of his body so close to hers.

His blue eyes were like pools of devastation, and right then and there, she knew she was done for. She'd do anything he wanted.

_Please_. Her body seemed to be screaming right now for more.

"Take it back." He ordered, like the dominating prince that he was.

His natural dominance only made her blood boil hotter in pleasure.

"No!" Her innate stubbornness would be the death of her. But she found, she'd rather like to be stubborn right now, if only to find out what else he was capable of doing.

She felt the hand at her jaw slowly loosen as it carefully travelled at the back of her neck, his thumb now caressing smooth circles onto her skin.

Her eyes suddenly felt so heavy, she almost purred at his touch.

"Take it back, love." He breathed into her ear, his voice a contradiction of gentle and predatory.

She could almost feel her legs giving away as he finally ran his nose and warm mouth along her neck, making her burn hotter. His lips making a trail of wildfire on its wake, finally closing her eyes at the forbidden yet wonderful sensation.

"Are you not going to take back what you said?" He asked as if for good measure.

Arya swallowed. Allowing herself to delve back into the reality before she answered bullheadedly, "No! You're still a fucking cunt to me, Your—"

And his lips were on hers without preamble. Hard and unrelenting.

She couldn't help but close her eyes as she felt the way his lips molded into hers, his tongue licking at her bottom lip, prodding for entrance, which she willingly obliged.

She'd never been kissed like this by a boy before. Never had she felt an intense burning passion to match the way his mouth was violating her inexperienced lips. But she loved all of it, anyway, she couldn't seem to stop.

It was evidenced by the moans that came out of her as Gendry continued to kiss her to the Seven Hells.

Fuck. He was sin personified. If this was how good a kiss felt like, then she'd never want to get back to the surface. She wanted to drown with him.

She felt the hand at her nape tilting her neck up to allow more space for his mouth to violate her skin there once more, his tongue lapping at her pulse points while she continued to elicit all those moans she never thought she could make.

His other hand finally moved down to cup her arse and in one swift movement, she was lifted by his uncanny strength using just one arm. That was how strong he was.

Arya's fingers didn't waste time raking the thick mop of hair on his head the moment they were free from his grasp. Then her legs instinctively circled around his waist as he started grinding into her center, feeling the unmistakable evidence of his own arousal. And fuck her to the Seven Hells and back but Gendry Baratheon was so hard for her. And she reveled at the effect she had on him.

"Fuck…" He cursed before a moan escaped his lips, rivaling the sounds she was making, as he continued to explore her jaw, her neck and then back to her swollen lips.

She didn't want him to stop. She wanted him to take her on that very wall, her maidenhead be damned. She just wanted to be fucked hard by the strapping Prince Gendry Baratheon.

"Please." Those words escaped from her lips without her meaning to, and now his violent kisses turned into softer ones until he finally pulled away, leaning his forehead to hers.

He was trying to catch his breath as if they'd just sparred with swords outside the yard.

"Do you still think of me as some stupid cunt, my lady?" He taunted, his voice still raspy.

She only closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, their foreheads still touching. Their breathing slowly coming back to normal.

"Shut up, Gendry." Was all she said, anger suddenly replacing her earlier desires.

She could not believe that she allowed herself to give in to the temptation of those sinful, delicious lips. And she hated herself for being so weak.

"You taste so good, Arya. God, the things I could do to those lips…" He muttered as if he was still entranced.

But Arya's mood began to sour, enraged for allowing herself to get lost under his blazing touches.

Finally pulling away from him, she settled on her feet and kept herself at a considerable distance. "You're not going to do anything with it, Gendry, because that's going to be the last time you will be touching me."

He broke into a haughty, incredulous laugh. "Stop denying yourself, Arya. I know you wanted it, too. And I got you where I want you."

Arya bristled at his words. She couldn't erase the wicked grin he was sporting, she badly wanted to punch his handsome face for it.

"Liar!" She spat before moving to walk away from him.

"Come on, admit it. You liked it. I can feel it in your lips."

"Shut up!"

She'd never been redder in her life.

"Arya Stark is such a blushing maid." Came his endless teasing.

"If you say one more word, one more word, Baratheon, then I'm not going to be responsible for what happens next." She warned as she turned to look at him with deadly eyes.

But Gendry only seemed to be fueled by her fair warning. "What, are you going to kiss me again, Stark?" He goaded.

Finally losing all resolve, she looked at him one last time as she released a sigh of resignation. Then she closed the distance between them by pulling his shoulders toward her space, her face once again inches apart from him as her eyes sought out his beautiful cerulean ones.

Gendry smirked at her sudden action, "I knew you couldn't resist me—"

Then her knee connected to his groin this time with such a force that made him kneel at her feet, grasping his aching bits with his hands. "Fucking shit!" Arya swore Gendry could've woken up the entire sleeping world at the roaring sound of his expletives.

It was her turn to laugh. "You should have seen your face, Baratheon. Oh, the sight of you on your knees right before me…"

She wasn't expecting him to give her a full retort, not with the way he was cringing at the pain.

Served him right. It only made her smile wider.

"Nice sparring with you. It was indeed a fair fight." Came her parting words.

She didn't wait for him to regain his composure and left him in the halls to recover from the pain.

**Gendry**

He didn't give a flying fuck how much his balls hurt right after his fiery betrothed kicked him with all of her stubborn strength. The only thing that mattered to him was how Arya Stark wanted him as badly as he wanted her. He could feel it in the way she responded to his kiss. And by far, it was the best kiss he ever had.


	7. Chapter 7

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 7: Recollecting**

**Arya **

Thoughts of Gendry Baratheon kissing her full on the lips surged like a tidal wave for yet the thousandth time ever since she came back to her chambers.

The bath she ordered her bedmaids to prepare wasn't even helping. And now that her body was pruned after almost an hour of being submerged in the already cold water, she still could not stop thinking of him and his criminal kiss.

It seemed like she claimed her first kiss from him after all. Or better yet, he stole her first kiss from her. It didn't even matter because she responded with eager consent to his violent kisses, anyway. She was in no position to complain.

Shit. She was utterly fucked. And going mental.

She wasn't supposed to like that kiss, much less respond to how his skillful tongue danced with hers, but by the fucking gods, his mouth on her lips and neck was the single most glorious thing that's ever happened to her life by far. It was as if something deep inside of her was awakened.

Only two days ago, she felt the touch of his lips on her skin for the first time back at Luwin's solar when they had their classes. It was certainly a kiss, albeit simple, but nothing could compare to the way he devoured her lips earlier.

He was insatiable and she loved it. Because it meant that he was not really rejecting her like she thought. The way he kissed her only showed how desperate he was, and she reveled at the effect she had on him.

She ended her bath with a final plunge as if to wash away all thoughts of him but as she emerged from the tub dripping with water, the memory of his kiss only flooded back at the very front of her thoughts.

It only made her more intoxicated to the point where she had to forgo thoroughly wiping her body in favor of throwing herself on her featherbed breathlessly, naked as her name day.

Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling of her chambers before finally closing them, their kiss still playing inside her mind.

She could still feel the phantom feeling of his hot lips on her skin, his stubble tickling her neck as he lapped her sensitive skin with his tongue. She suddenly wanted to know what it would feel like to have that tongue on other parts of her body.

As if by some invisible force, she touched her still sensitive lips with her fingertips before trailing them down to her pulsing neck, remembering the warm feeling of his lips, teeth and tongue, and before she knew it, her fingers were now touching each of her breasts, her nipples pert from the cold or from her sudden arousal.

A moan escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, imagining the movement to be Gendry's tongue licking each of her nipples before sucking them.

It wasn't enough, however, because a sudden feeling of heat began to pool in between her legs, begging to be touched. Or to be licked by Gendry's tongue. So her fingers slowly found their way from her breasts, to her abdomen then finally down to where her need was calling her the most.

She was surprised to find herself dripping wet down there, and it was not even from her bath. It was something else born out of wanton need.

Her instinct dictated her to touch that tiny nub at the center of her sex, which caused her eyes to open at the unfamiliar sensation of pleasure. Another moan came out from her lips, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't stop touching herself now that she knew how good it felt. Her fingers traced the source of her wetness before spreading it all over her needy cunt. It was so wet, she felt the wetness dripping down on the sheets.

Fuck, she never thought it would feel this good.

And now she was wondering what it would feel like to have Gendry's tongue on that spot, licking her and lapping her juices. She was not sure what came next but she couldn't keep her fingers away. She needed something, some sort of release. And instinct dictated her to keep on going until she found that release.

Her fingers continued to circle around her small bundle of nerves, making her more breathless with need, her legs spreading wider on the bed.

"Fuck…" She cursed, swallowing her whimpers of pleasure.

_Gendry, please_. Her unbidden thoughts whispered for her.

"Gendry…" She finally called in her softest, breathless voice so that only the wind could hear her. The shooting rate of her heartbeat indicated that she was already on the brink of attaining that much needed release as her mind continued to imagine him fucking her with his tongue. "Gendry, please—"

The sudden knock on the door brought her back to her senses.

"Shit." She hissed, jumping out of the featherbed to pick up the towel she discarded on the side table before covering her indecency.

She felt her heightened arousal slowly obliterating with each step she took toward the door.

Why had she imagined Gendry doing all those things to her in the first place?

Fuck.

Before another set of colorful expletives paraded inside her thoughts, she heard the bedmaid finally announcing, "Lady Arya, you are needed in your father's solar right now."

Leaning her forehead on the door, she retorted in breathless haste, "Please tell them I'll be there in a few minutes. I just have to finish dressing up. Thank you." She refused to unlock the door and meet the bedmaid eye to eye in fear of being discovered for touching herself.

She knew it was something unspeakable, especially to a lady like herself.

But she couldn't help it. It didn't feel like a sin at all.

It felt so good even.

Pushing all those lecherous thoughts at the deepest recesses of her mind, she finally donned on the simple dress she chose to wear that day. She wasn't really in the mood to explain herself if her mother or father would ask her why she was wearing boy clothes in the presence of the Royal family in their household.

As she entered her lord father's solar, she was rather surprised to see a large gathering of people inside its familiar confines. Her parents were there, along with her oldest brother, Robb. King Robert and Lord Renly were also present, and of course, Gendry.

A flush crept through her cheeks when their eyes met.

He looked at her knowingly, those intense eyes dancing with mirth as he tried to hide a smirk.

It took all of her resolve not to roll her eyes.

For some reason, she already had an inclination as to what this meeting was all about. Dread replaced her feeling of exhilaration as she tried to slowly accept what was coming to her.

Sighing in resignation, she allowed her feet to lead her to her father's desk where they were all waiting for her.

"What is it?" She had to find her voice for such menial question, if only to help her in acknowledging this reality unfolding right before her very eyes.

"We are all gathered here to formally put your betrothal with the prince into writing, sweetling." Father announced. "The rest of us will bear witness to both of you signing a binding contract regarding your impending marriage."

Each word only put invisible daggers to her heart, breaking it to a million tiny pieces.

But she knew too well that throwing a tantrum over it would not change anything. So instead of throwing a fit and crying like a little shit, she tipped her chin up like the lady she was and schooled her features with indifference.

There was nothing she could do to change their minds for she was just a mere pawn in this political alliance. Blind obedience had always been the way of her world.

"Fine." She did her best not to snarl at the word.

She remained silent as the terms of their betrothal were discussed. She even went as far as blocking out every conversation they were having, her eyes trained to the view outside the window as she zoned out, wondering what it would feel like to be free.

Perhaps she should already consider her prior plan of running away to the Free Cities, start a new life as no one and live a simple life away from nobility. But no matter how much appealing it sounded, she just couldn't bring her family to shame. It wasn't in her to be the cause of her family's downfall.

While their small session was going on, she could feel the prince's eyes on her. It had been that way from the moment she entered the solar. But this time, she refused to meet his gaze.

There was an irrational anger brewing inside her that was directed toward him for not even trying to stop their betrothal. She hated him for it, but she also hated herself more for being unreasonable. This wasn't really Gendry's fault either. He's more of a pawn than a prince, just like she was.

Her thoughts were cut off when she heard her father calling her, "Arya?"

She snapped to attention, shifting her eyes back to the room.

"Yes?"

"We need you to sign these papers now, love." Came her father's request, carrying a careful tone about him. He was smart enough not to feed her internal rage by imposing his authority on her.

Wordlessly, Arya rose from her seat and sauntered toward the table. Gendry just finished signing the paper when she grabbed the quill from him without preamble.

She wrote her name in her usual awkward scrawl on the stupid parchment, the sound of the quill as she was writing was the only audible sound in the room as they observed her.

Once she was finally done, she took one look at each of the people present before she said, "Done. May I be excused?"

At her father's approval, she made her curtsy and directed it to the king and the prince, "By your leave, Your Grace."

Then she stormed out of the solar, brooding with controlled fury.

"Where are you going?" Gendry's voice broke the silence in the stables where Arya just finished putting the saddle on her horse.

"Nowhere that concerns you." Came her icy response.

She felt his unwavering presence as he towered over her.

"I hate sounding so possessive about this, but you're my concern now that everything's official. Part of this betrothal is being sworn to protect you."

His reminder only irked her more. Nevertheless, it was the truth. She was indeed his concern now.

But being the moody bitch that she was, she wanted to spite him more. "You should hear yourself talk, Baratheon. You sound like a blabbering, useless idiot!" She spat before turning her back to him and climbing up her horse.

"You shouldn't even be riding out there by yourself, you know. There's been reports of—" but he was cut off when her horse began to gallop toward his direction, Arya completely ignoring him.

"I can if I want to! Not even you can stop me! Now stop pestering me and move away!" She spat.

She was almost at the rear gate when one of the Winterfell guards stopped her, "My lady, you cannot get out of Winterfell by yourself. Your father had specifically told us this time to no longer allow you outside the premises—"

"You will let me out or else I'm telling your wife-to-be that you're sleeping with Ros from the brothels!" There was conviction in her tone.

It only left the guard speechless while she gave him a knowing smirk.

That was the beauty of being almost invisible inside the castle. While all the attention was given to her beautiful sister, Arya took that chance to get to know everybody's secrets for circumstances like this.

He finally opened the gate for her, albeit reluctantly.

Before she could thank the guard, she heard Gendry behind her, "Don't worry, I'll ride with her." His assurance seemed genuine so the guard also allowed him to pass without another word.

"Is that how you get your way around everyone? By blackmailing them?" He asked as he finally caught up with her, riding regally like the prince that he was.

She had to admit that he was a better rider than most of the men she knew. And he even looked more handsome riding his destrier. He looked like a general on a horse riding out to war. The image of him as a general was arousing in itself. She wondered what Gendry looked like in his military uniform. She was badly tempted to ask him but asking him would only feed his ego. But it still didn't stop her from wanting to devour him.

Scolding herself, she cleared her thoughts and her throat then mustered all her strength for a response, "Desperate times, Your Grace."

Gendry laughed. "Your circumstance is hardly a desperate time, my lady."

She shook her head in resignation. She was tired of arguing with him today so she just went on with riding her horse away from him.

"Where are you off to, Arya?"

"Where do you think?" Then with a piercing glare, she added, "Should you even be allowed outside of Winterfell by yourself? Where are your bloody Kingsguards? I've never really seen any of them tailing after you ever since you arrived in Winterfell. Aren't you supposed to have one just like your father?" Came her observation.

Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, he replied, "I don't really see any reason why I should need a Kingsguard when everybody knows that I can defend myself."

Arya gave him one last condescending look and said with sarcasm, "You sure are one humble prince, Your Grace."

"I'm only stating the truth, my lady."

His statement shut her up. After all, the truth was evidenced by her loss to their sparring match just this morning.

They remained silent for the rest of the ride until they finally reached the lake. It dawned on Arya as she dismounted her horse that this place was where everything between them started. Gendry might have thought the same because there was a gentleness in the way he was looking at her.

They sat in silence near the rocks, each stuck in their own reverie for a few minutes until Gendry broke Arya's deepening thoughts. "I have to be honest with you. I don't care if you don't believe me but I think this, right here… This is our own little place…"

Arya wanted to give him one of her choice barbed retorts, but she just couldn't bring herself to argue with him for once. Not when her mood just shifted back to normal when they arrived. "I know. I feel that, too. This is where everything started." She agreed, her eyes fixed on the mountains beyond the lake.

There's just something about his words at that moment that gave a balmy relief to her moody episodes. Besides, it was a good day to be out and about. The wind wasn't as chilly as she expected.

"I don't regret it, you know, meeting you. All things considered, you're one of the few friends I have who is brutally honest and doesn't treat me like I'm breakable just because I'm the prince."

His statement brought a small secret smile to her lips.

"I'm not one for sugar-coating bullshit so I tend to go for brutal honesty. But I thank you… for saying those things. If anything, it means a lot. I don't really have a lot of friends, too, so meeting you and getting to know you is a great change, for once."

"Who are your other friends, by the way?" He asked.

"Well, there's Mycah, the butcher's boy who I always beat whenever we practice swordfighting. Then there's Ned Dayne of Starfall. I haven't seen him in years but he's a good friend. We used to also spar in the practice yard when they visited Winterfell years ago. And of course, there's Jon. He's my closest brother." Her response evoked an unnamable expression on Gendry's face. "How about you? Who are your friends back in King's Landing?"

Her question seemed to bring him back to his senses when he replied, "My oldest friend is Hot Pie. We come all the way back to Flea Bottom. He used to work in a bakery and when I became the prince, I asked him to come with me. I would have made him my squire, but he didn't want anything to do with becoming a knight. Said he wanted to be a baker, so he's now the official baker in the castle. He really makes the most delicious cakes and pies, you know." He said. It was evident in the way he was talking about this Hot Pie person (strange yet a fitting name for a baker, though) that he was so fond of him, and Arya was somehow glad that Gendry wasn't so lonely back in King's Landing.

"I reckon you'd like him, too. He's a good lad and I can't wait to introduce you to him when you arrive at King's Landing. I'm sure you'll get along well. You'll love his pastries and pies. Basically all the food that he cooks." He added.

His mention of her arrival at King's Landing seemed to have darkened her mood once more. She's now starting to wonder why she's being so moody these past few days. Sure, the stupid prince could be considered a trigger for her mood swings, but she had a feeling that her mood shifts seemed different this time.

Could this just be her teenage angsty hormones playing their part?

But nevertheless, she replied albeit with fake enthusiasm. "I'm also positive that Hot Pie and I will become really good friends, especially that I do love to eat."

Her response earned a laugh from Gendry. "Yeah, I've seen the way you eat. Not that it's a bad thing. I do like girls with a hearty appetite."

But she couldn't bring herself to respond this time. The thought about eventually coming to King's Landing only bothered her more.

Suddenly, she felt warm, gentle fingers on her chin as Gendry made her look at him. "What's wrong, Arya?" Concern was written all over his face.

She did not meet his eyes. "Just the fact that I'm going to have to leave Winterfell when the time comes to marry you. And there's no breaking this betrothal, isn't it? Not when everything's been signed and sealed."

She felt his thumb caressing her chin so gently, she could feel goosebumps all over her body at the wonderful sensation.

"Look at me." He ordered in nothing but his gentle voice. She slowly lifted her eyes at him, its blueness making her entranced.

She then felt the warmth on her chin travel to her jaw until his large hand engulfed one side of her face, his fingers now dancing at the back of her head, giving her that familiar warmth that only he could provide. She felt fuzzy and she never wanted him to let go.

"I know you are appalled by this whole idea of marriage, but if it makes you any better, so am I. Because I never really wanted to put you in this kind of position. But since the contract is done and final, all I could ever promise you is your freedom and happiness. Well, freedom in the sense that wouldn't break off the agreement between our houses, but rather, freedom to be yourself while you're betrothed to me.

"If you want to become a knight, then go ahead and be one. I will support you all the way. If you want to travel to Essos or somewhere west of Westeros, then I'll be there with you to discover all those places. I wouldn't keep you chained to your duties as a woman of this period. Because I know that's not you."

She was looking at him the whole time he said those words, and all she could see was his honesty. "Why are you being so kind to me, Gendry?" Was all she asked.

"I value freedom as much as you do. And to remove that kind of freedom from you is just plain wrong, Arya. I don't want to extinguish that spark in you. You are so much more…"

She wanted to wrap her arms around him in a tight embrace. He truly understood her in his own little ways more than anyone else and it made her heart flutter.

She flashed him her warmest smile to show him how grateful she was.

"You feeling better now?" He asked her, his own smile spreading like wildfire. She always loved the way his eyes disappeared whenever he smiled.

She nodded in response before he completely pulled away from her. "That's good to know because I really thought you'd stab my eye with that quill back in your father's solar earlier."

She rolled her eyes playfully, "Don't make me regret my decision of not stabbing you."

A snort escaped his lips. "Please. You were seething with rage earlier that I really thought you'd throw a fit in front of everyone."

Arya was actually on the verge of throwing one. She'd been so tempted to unleash her wrath in front of the people responsible for her ordeal, but she thought better of it.

"I've been known for my temperament. And I did have my fair share of blinding rage especially when I was younger. But I grew tired of my anger issues and learned to channel them." Came her explanation.

Learning to control her anger was a hard process in the making. She had her relapses every now and then, especially when she first knew of her betrothal, but her reaction at that time was gentler compared to the things she'd done in the past out of anger.

Another few seconds of silence passed between them once more before Gendry broached another related topic. "At least help me understand more why you abhor so much the idea of marriage."

In her calm resolve, she managed to start elaborating, "It's not really the absolute idea of marriage so much as how women are being treated in our time that is abhorrent to me. Marriage can be a good thing if the woman wanted it for herself because she loves the person she is going to marry. But herein lies the problem when a woman is diminished as a commodity, a pawn to be traded like cattle in order to strengthen political alliances. What makes this world unfair is when she is forced against her will to fulfill a so-called duty under the medieval notion that a woman's main role in society is only to become child-bearers and wives, subdued to be domesticated under the shadow of their husbands rather than stand by their sides as equals.

"Why can't most men see that women are also their equals? Why does it seem like a taboo whenever a woman would so much as express her own desires to be herself without the approval of society? The way of our world is utter bullshit, you know."

She could hear Gendry's sigh after she said those words.

"I don't actually see women in that sort of way." He told her a matter-of-factly. She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion.

"I mean, I also consider women as my equal and not merely as the second sex. And I somehow understand what you mean. I am acquainted with several ladies at court to understand that they, too, have their own personal desires and goals apart from just being restricted to the role of homemakers and child-bearers.

"Take for example my good friend, Lady Brienne of Tarth, who is now Ser Brienne, by the way. She fought so hard for women to be knighted the same way as men by submitting an appeal to the council. It took her years of waiting until majority of the king's council finally approved her appeal." He explained.

Arya's eyes widened. "That is great to know, Gendry. I've always looked up to Brienne of Tarth as my role model. I admire her so much."

"Me too. I also admire her bravery amidst men mocking her. She's a good friend, Arya. And I'm pretty sure you both will become the closest of friends, too."

Arya nodded in agreement.

"Then at least I'll have something to look forward to when I get to King's Landing." She told him. At least she wouldn't be that lonely when Gendry would be out to perform his duties at court.

"It's also refreshing to know that a person with a position like you do not regard women as the weaker sex. You can set an example to the people, especially to the other men at court." She added.

"I've seen how the women are treated while I was still living in Flea Bottom to understand the double standards of this world…" He trailed off.

For some reason, Arya was grateful that they shared the same sentiments about women, because she couldn't imagine herself being stuck with a husband who regarded her as nothing more than a mindless puppet and a personal plaything.

**One week later: **

Arya woke up drenched in sweat after having a nightmare filled with blood and gore. Her throat felt coarse from shouting in her sleep and her heart would not stop pounding like an angry hammer.

The growling thunders outside startled her while the cold winds from the heavy rain seeping through the small cracks of her closed windows gave her goosebumps.

As she propped herself on her knees, something wet trickled in between her thighs. She put two of her fingers in between them and was surprised to find it moist and a little bit sticky. There was also that familiar scent of iron. When she slightly spread her legs, she squinted her eyes and noticed a dark color staining her bedclothes and the lower back portion of her smallclothes and nightclothes. She didn't like this feeling in between her thighs at all.

Her thoughts were broken when she heard someone knock on her door.

"Arya!" A familiar masculine voice called out.

Her door suddenly bolted open revealing a panicking Gendry in his tunic and breeches bringing a candle on one hand and his longsword on the other.

"Arya, are you alright?" He asked her worriedly as he hastily sauntered to her bed, releasing his sword in the process.

Arya was still holding up her hand on eye level as she studied the wet substance staining her fingers.

It dawned on her that the iron scent was the same scent as blood.

_No…_

She refused to acknowledge what her senses were telling her. Her eyes flickered at him with horror.

"Gendry…" She trailed off in a soft whisper.

She studied her fingers once again, this time with a better view as Gendry's lighted candle illuminated her line of vision. She saw how red the tips of her two fingers were.

Gendry squinted, carefully studying her coated fingers before his eyes trailed toward her stained bedclothes, his burning candle already placed on her side table.

"Seven Hells, you're bleeding! Where are you hurt? What happened?" While his concern was adorable, it wasn't the right time to patronize him, considering the more pressing matter in her hands. Literally.

"No! No! No! This can't be happening!" She whined once the reality of her situation finally dawned on her.

Without any preamble, she ran to her door, shut it tight and slid the bar down to lock it once and for all.

It was there that Gendry came to realize what was happening.

"It's your moon-blood, you're…" He trailed off, speechless.

"I'm flowering…" Arya finished for him.

They both knew what Arya's flowering meant.

"We can't be married yet, Gendry." Arya told him with pleading eyes. "You have to promise me you won't tell anyone about this."

Since he was a foot taller than her, she had to incline her head up to look at him.

"Please, Gendry." She implored, her eyes glazing in fear.

Gendry gazed down at her, somehow lost in his own thoughts before he finally cupped her face. He breathed out a heavy sigh he had been holding.

"I give you my word, Arya. On my honor as a Baratheon." He swore.

His gentle caress on her face was promise enough.

"Thank you." She whispered, finally pulling away before she could give in to the strong impulse of kissing him.

As a diversion to where her thoughts were leading her to, she walked back to her featherbed and started pulling out her bedclothes hastily.

"What are you doing?" Came Gendry's curious question.

"I have to get rid of this. Help me out please."

They were successful in pulling out the entire bedsheet together before Arya unremorsefully threw it in the fireplace to get rid of the evidence of her flowering.

She then opened a large wooden chest on the other side of her chambers and grabbed the first piece of clothing she could find. Turning her back away from Gendry, she started to undress herself.

"What are you doing?" Gendry asked, feeling the weight of his stare as he watched her strip off her garments.

Arya walked back toward the fire clad only in her smallclothes and tossed her white nightgown in the embers.

"I'm burning all the evidences and changing into clean clothes, obviously." Came her now calm response.

After tossing her clothes in the fire, she took her time to wash her hands on the basin.

"Turn around. I'm going to go all naked now. If I see you peeking, I'm going to kill you." She threatened.

Gendry lifted his hands as if in surrender.

"There's no need to threaten me, my lady. I won't be looking anyway." He assured her, turning his back away from her as he faced the other side of her chambers.

"Very well then. Stay where you are and don't turn around until I say so."

She took her time to remove her smallclothes before she replaced them with cleaner nightclothes, ensuring to add some more extra layers of clean linen to absorb her moon blood. As soon as she was done, she finally walked back to where Gendry was standing and finally placed her hand on one of his shoulders.

"You can turn around now. I'm done." She told him plainly.

As soon as Gendry turned around to look at her, he was out of words.

She was wearing a new set of nightclothes only this time it was thinner than the previous one. It looked sheer and luminescent. She was aware that the silhouette of her body and her breasts could be seen from the light of the fire inside her chambers and as much as she wanted to stay a bit more decent, she'd rather prefer being comfortable in lighter clothes when she slept.

She also did not bind her breasts, and she wasn't surprised when Gendry's eyes never left her chest.

"Eyes up here, Baratheon." She berated with her usual indignant tone.

How can a massive person like him be smitten by someone as small as her?

It felt odd… yet at the back of her mind, she found it _exhilarating _to have Gendry look at her like that with those attractive eyes as if he was slowly stripping her off her nightclothes.

She noticed Gendry swallowing a lump on his throat as he came back to his senses.

"Right. I'm sorry. It's just that I thought I saw something there and… never mind." He trailed off, clearing his throat nervously.

Arya rolled her eyes exasperatedly before finally opening the wooden drawer from her bedside table, revealing a small sewing box.

In some way, she was thankful for deciding to keep that box despite her parallel hatred for stitches and needlework. Her instincts were on point when it dictated her to keep it for emergencies such as this.

Gendry sat beside her on the featherbed as she started gathering the pieces she needed to sew. She knew from observation that she would require more of her smallclothes to be sewn with thick pieces of clean cloths for the duration of her monthly blood.

She was no longer as ignorant as she used to be, especially when her mother and their septa was all about educating her in preparation for this moment to come.

Gendry's candle and the light from the fire illuminated her chambers.

They lost the urge to get back to sleep when they started to engage in small, random conversations.

The rain was still heavily pouring outside with occasional thunders.

"You're well aware that they would eventually know about this, right?" Gendry said.

"I know. But at least they won't know soon enough. I'll try to hide it as much as I could manage." She retorted as she continued to make crooked stitches. "I'm really bad at this." She added, biting her lip in concentration.

"What? Hiding it from them or the sewing part?" Gendry asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"The sewing part. My septa says I have the hands of a blacksmith." She retorted.

Gendry hooted.

"What? Those soft little things? That's unlikely." He told her, sounding incredulous as he looked at her hands and fingers.

"Shut up." Arya told him.

"Give me your hands." Gendry suddenly commanded with his princely authority.

Arya looked at him skeptically with her eyebrow raised.

"Why?" She stopped with her sewing altogether.

"Just give me your hands." He told her once more.

Arya resigned and put down her needle and thread on the wooden sewing box. She held out her hands in the air and Gendry carefully took it in his.

He held out her left hand in his right hand and carefully trailed his left finger on the palm of her hand. Different kinds of alien emotions shot through her core the moment his skin was in contact with hers.

"This can't be the hands of a blacksmith… they're so soft." He whispered as he continued to trace his finger along the lines of her palm.

"They're not soft. I practice with my sword all the time." She protested.

Gendry averted his gaze at her, giving her that familiar dangerous look.

"I know but they're still soft." He told her in a raspy voice.

Arya felt her breath hitch the moment Gendry engulfed her hand with his, entwining their fingers.

"If you could see, mine are callused from long years of pounding on steel." He told her a matter-of-factly.

This time, it was Arya's turn to allow the pulp of her fingers to travel along the lines of his callused palm after she pulled away. They were hard and sturdy and rough.

It was indeed the hand of a blacksmith.

And he was so warm.

She bit her lip as she allowed herself to trail her fingers on his again. She couldn't seem to stop. She did not want to stop. Deep inside she felt a certain need to be under his touch all the time.

"How does it feel?" Gendry suddenly asked her in a low gruff voice as he continued to look at her dangerously.

Arya took a large amount of air and held her breath for a few good seconds before releasing it.

She hated the way he was making her breathless again.

"Rough…" She trailed off as she tried to wrack her brains further for any other words to describe it. "Strong… Big… Long… Hard…" She whispered breathlessly as she fell under a trance-like state the moment her eyes met his.

She saw Gendry's lips curl into a wicked, lecherous smile.

"You seem to be talking about a totally different part of my body now, my lady." He stated suggestively.

Arya flushed insanely at his innuendo and pulled away from his hand.

"I wasn't!" She hissed through gritted teeth.

She hated how he could always read her mind. She remained quiet as she continued to work on her stitches with him watching her closely beside her on the featherbed.

Right after she finished stitching her bedclothes, she carefully put back the needle and the thread inside her wooden box and kept it safe inside her bedside drawer. Stretching her arms up, she yawned.

"Getting back to sleep now?" Gendry asked, regarding her carefully.

Before she could respond to him, she found herself almost jumping off from her bed as she was startled by the angry growling of thunder outside. She was caught off-guard.

The rains were still heavily pouring in the entire North.

As if by instinct, Arya resorted to hugging herself, bringing her sheets closer to her chest as she felt a sudden cold shiver all over her body. Perhaps the sound of thunders still unnerved her.

"Arya?" Gendry asked worriedly, slowly scooting closer to her, putting a hand on her back to soothe her. "Are you alright?"

Even Nymeria was awoken by the raging thunders. Her direwolf padded toward her bed and stayed with her on one side while Gendry was on the other side, holding that reassuring look on his face.

Arya gave him an unflinching look.

"I'm alright, Gendry. I just got startled, is all. It's not like I'm still scared of some stupid thunder anyway." She lied defensively.

But another thunder startled her again.

"Fuck." She cursed.

Nymeria nuzzled her side. Her adorable wolf always did that to her whenever she felt scared.

"Why do they have to be so fucking loud?" She muttered annoyingly.

"I could stay and watch you sleep and leave before everyone is up." Came his kind offer.

If anything, the look in his eyes was sincere.

Arya wanted to melt.

His offer did sound inviting because if truth be told, she never really wanted him to leave her side ever.

Why was she suddenly having all these kinds of feelings? Before even discovering the existence of Gendry Baratheon, the only feeling she knew was the feeling of all-consuming joy and freedom of finally being able to sneak out from her septa and her own mother. She was happy and content all by herself. But right now, it was all of those combined and something more.

But what kind of _more _was that?

Releasing a sigh, she shrugged her shoulders. Maybe it's not that bad having him around after all. His radiance always made her warm.

"If you want to, Gendry." She finally replied, feigning nonchalance, but deep inside, she was already burning with that indescribable undulating desire.

She noticed his smile growing.

"I want to, Arya." She felt her pulse throbbing exultantly.

Arya finally seemed to relax on her featherbed. She rested her back on the headboard with her soft pillow cushioning it. Gendry did the same after he took off his boots while Nymeria was on her other side, already getting back to her glorious sleep.

Crossing her arms before her chest and staring blankly into oblivion, Arya suddenly spoke after a few minutes of silence.

"We are always caught under this circumstance, are we not?"

Gendry looked at her, confused.

"What circumstance is that, Arya?"

Another thunder boomed outside, but this time Arya no longer flinched.

"Of rains and profound conversations…" Came her plain retort.

They did have profound conversations in the past hour and she only ever had those conversations with him.

She heard Gendry chuckle.

"You're right. In fact, Hot Pie aside, I don't really get to talk like this to anyone in King's Landing. I mean, Brienne and I do talk, but she's still too formal toward me sometimes." He told her truthfully.

Arya exactly felt the same way. With Gendry, she felt like herself, just Arya without any reservations.

She remained speechless at his revelation, but her lips betrayed a small smile.

Gendry beamed back.

Switching the subject in an instant before this led to anything she didn't want to regret the next day, she put her palm on her face and spoke. "Shit, I can't believe this is happening to me right now. This was the only consolation I had in this betrothal. The fact that I don't get to marry you right away because I haven't flowered yet… and here I am bleeding like a fucking waterfall." She whined.

Drawing himself closer to her, he whispered, "Then I guess, you're just going to have to stick with me the entire time you're bleeding. Because we both know how much you need to keep watch for any possible evident blood stains on your clothes." Came his suggestion, flashing his stupid smug smirk.

Arya's mouth fell.

"For the entire duration of my moon blood?" She had to clarify.

Gendry nodded, "Yes, my lady." He replied, stressing out her title.

Arya blinked back twice.

"So we're going to act like a real couple and stay with each other's side like all the time? With all the hand holding and touching each other bullshit?" She tried to ask again.

He nodded.

"Yes, if you like to put it that way. We can act like real couples who are finally accepting this betrothal, holding hands and being more affectionate with each other. Gods, I can't even begin to imagine the joyous looks in our fathers' faces when they see us." Gendry began to tease her ridiculously, grinning impishly.

Arya rolled her eyes exasperatingly.

"I will never ever allow you to treat me like some stupid helpless lady, holding my hand and parading around Winterfell, displaying your affection all because we had to hide this stupid secret!" She spat through gritted teeth.

Gendry pulled his head back to laugh at her statement.

Arya snarled in her place, obviously annoyed.

_Stupid, clever bastard_.


	8. Chapter 8

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 8: Concealing**

**Arya**

_Arya rolled her eyes at him, "I will never ever allow you to treat me like some stupid helpless lady, holding my hand and parading around Winterfell, displaying your affection, all because we had to hide this stupid secret!" She spat through gritted teeth._

"I can't believe I allowed you to treat me like some stupid helpless lady, holding my hand and parading around Winterfell, displaying your affection all because of this stupid secret!" Arya hissed at him in annoyance as they were walking along the grounds of Winterfell after breaking their fast.

She had practically eaten her words the night they were having their deep conversations inside her chambers. Gendry only ended up laughing like a lunatic.

In the duration of her first moon blood, Arya had to pretend as if she was already fond of her stupid bullheaded betrothed by constantly remaining at his side so that they could help each other in watching out for any possible signs of her flowering, especially in checking for any stains in her clothes. Arya even had to wear dark-colored dresses for extra precaution. It was the most excruciating five days in her entire life but it was the only way to keep her secret.

Their inseparable moments had been mistaken as actual fondness by her family, including the King, and Arya couldn't even deny their conclusions lest she'd like her secret unraveled to the rest of the kingdom. At least the King was more than pleased to finally see them together.

Her brothers were teasing her nonstop about the prince who finally thawed the ice-cold heart of the Wild Northern Girl.

In short, she felt like the laughingstock of their family at this moment. She could never imagine in a million years that she would be the subject of their teasing. She was the one who always did the teasing and the mockery. Turned out, the joke was on her now.

Gendry on the other hand was more than amused to be her accomplice in this mummer's farce that he even took their pretentious acting to the next level when he would offer to hold her hand or tug it under his arm every time they would do their routine walk in the grounds of Winterfell, which only annoyed Arya to the bones.

On the third day of her moon blood, it just so happened that the King and her father were having an outdoor breakfast in the yard when they passed by their table.

Out of compliance, they had to stop by and greet them.

"Good morning, Your grace, Father." Came her greeting, forcing a smile on her face that she was certain looked more like a wince.

Gendry, on the other hand, greeted them flawlessly, proper manners and all. How Gendry had managed to master the art of proper curtsying in those years he became a prince was already beyond her.

"Here's my favorite couple in the Seven Kingdoms!" The King greeted them endearingly, smiling widely in his seat.

Arya wanted to laugh at the King's remark because for some reason she found it ridiculous, but she had managed to hold her mockery because she felt Gendry tightening his grip on her hand. He must have felt her controlled outburst with the way she was holding her breath.

The King turned to her father happily and gave a playful slap on his back.

"See what I mean, Ned? I was never wrong in matching our children. They are perfect! A month after our stay here in Winterfell and here they are, already inseparable." The King said to Arya's father at once.

Ned smiled at the King warmly, then at Arya. It was evident enough that her father was very happy, too.

"I couldn't agree more, Robert." He simply stated.

"Perhaps we should just marry them tomorrow in the godswood because their union is already inevitable. I can't wait to spend my time with my little grandchildren before I become too old and weak to chase them around." The King japed before laughing heartily.

Arya felt the color draining from her face.

And the thought of spawning little shits at her young age. Gods, no.

"What?!" She couldn't help but blurt out in indignation. Finally realizing how she was reacting, she cleared her throat to resemble composure, "I mean, don't you think that's too soon though? Since I am involved in this betrothal myself, I believe that I should be courted properly by your son first, don't you think, Your Grace?" She spoke it with confidence, tilting her chin up as if she had more authority than the King.

Gods, she's spewing gibberish and she couldn't even believe what she was saying. But anything was better than having to birth babes too soon into their marriage.

Gendry had to look at her, his face a picture of disbelief.

"You want me to court you?" Came his stupid question.

She already started it, so to hell with it, "Yes. I think it would allow us the chance to get to know each other better." Came her saccharine retort, then she spoke in a whisper so that only he could hear her, "Because I might turn out to be your worst nightmare of a betrothed, you know. And in that way, you might consider finding someone else. Then I'd be more than glad to stoop down and allow you to have your happily-ever-after with whoever could replace me." She winked before turning to face her father and King Robert.

But Gendry wasn't having any of it, because she then felt his hot breath on her ear. "There is no one else. You want me to court you? Fine, I'm going to court you and then you wouldn't be able to resist me." Came his confident whisper.

"Shut up and just go with it." She hissed.

"Oh, courting you is not part of this charade, love. This is going to be for real." He whispered back with glee written all over his eyes.

"Are we both interrupting your courtship? Should we just go and leave now so that you two could have this moment alone?" The King japed, interrupting their brief argument.

She looked at her father who only shook his head, covering his mouth to control his laugher.

"Sorry about that, I just could not resist your son, Your Grace." Came her sarcastic retort, before she added, "However, as much as I wanted to make this marriage actualize in the godswood tomorrow, unfortunately, I can't. You see, and as hard as it is for everyone to believe considering my age, I haven't really flowered yet. And the agreement I have signed states that I have to be a woman who has already flowered to marry the prince. I can't argue much with the technicality. It's what's written in the papers, so…" She shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

She so wanted to roll her eyes now but she had to maintain her composure. If only to keep their facades up.

Gendry regarded her carefully before he turned to look at his father.

"Lady Arya is right, Father. There is no need to rush. Please give me more time to court her. She deserves that." He told them in her defense as he continued to hold her hand, trying to comfort her and appease the growing tension from her body.

"By your leave, Lord Stark, Father. I promised to take Lady Arya in the godswood today for our daily prayer of guidance and enlightenment" Gendry's sarcasm was not unnoticed by Arya, which left her on the brink of an impending uncontrollable laughter.

As soon as they were out of their fathers' earshot, Arya finally let out the boisterous laughter she had been holding the whole time.

"I wasn't expecting that kind of reaction from you, really." He told her, mirth dancing in his eyes.

Arya had to release herself from his grip just so that she could hold her stomach while laughing her heart out. She was only able to finally calm herself when they reached the godswood.

"Well, you gave them a fucked up excuse. My father's never going to believe in that." She replied, taking a seat on a large tree stump.

"Why not?" Gendry wondered, scrunching his face.

"My father's well aware of what my septa would call my 'heretic tendencies,' so he knows that praying is the least that I would do in the godswood, ironically." She rolled her eyes at the thought, remembering all those times when her septa would look at her as if she was destined to rot in the fiery pits of the Seven Hells.

"In another life, you would have burnt at the stake already." He told her, snickering.

"Oh, what a poetic way to die." Came her retort.

"Indeed." He agreed, taking the spot beside her, their shoulders already touching.

"Wherever did you learn about those ideologies, if I may ask?" Gendry asked her.

"It's called the library, Gendry. That's where the greatest ideas are stored. And they don't even have to be restricted to the conventions of society. It's a whole new world out there, actually." She responded sarcastically.

Gendry elbowed her playfully.

"If I didn't know any better, I think you're just using the library as a hiding place from your lady lessons." He said.

"So what? It's not like running away from those lady lessons made me dumber. In fact, hiding in the library liberated my mind to different ideas and new learnings. And I think that's the greatest weapon, don't you think?"

She noticed Gendry resting his back on the tree, finally relaxing.

"Point taken, smart-ass. I can't believe that _the _Arya Stark is such a nerd."

"You have a problem with nerds, Baratheon?" She challenged.

His killer smirk was giving her stomach butterflies again.

"I have a thing for nerds, Stark. You ought to know that by now." He winked.

She had to kill those butterflies and fast before they get overpowered by his wicked smile.

"Oh, please. You're only saying that because you have to court me."

"Not really. You can ask Hot Pie and Brienne, by the way. They know my type."

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You? Having a type? I thought you just fuck anything that has a willing cunt. What with being an eligible bachelor prince and all."

Instead of being offended, Gendry just laughed. "That's Robert's doing. Not me. Gods, I still have standards, Arya."

She just shook her head. "Whatever, Baratheon." Then she yawned, feeling drowsy all of a sudden. Fuck her hormones right now. She would have wanted to know more about those girls he'd been with back in King's Landing but she just had feeling that now was not the perfect time to ask him that. Besides, she was really sleepy.

It wasn't long before she found herself leaning on Gendry's shoulder and falling into a relaxing slumber.

She was awoken by a warm hand gently shaking her shoulder.

"Hey, Arya…" Gendry whispered gently, his breath was hot on the top of her head.

Being a light sleeper herself, she opened her eyes right away and sat up straight despite feeling the exhaustion from her body.

"Sorry, I just…" She trailed off upon noticing a shadow in her peripheral.

"Ser Arys?" She asked, still trying to get rid of her drowsiness while partly wondering why Gendry's Kingsguard was here in the godswood.

"I am sorry to interrupt your sleep, my lady. But you and Prince Gendry are needed at the Great Hall right now. Winterfell has visitors." He announced.

"Visitors? From where?" Was all she asked.

"From the Dreadfort, my lady." Came his response.

Dreadfort.

Just hearing that word sent shivers down her spine. And not in a good way. Her reaction might have been too transparent because Gendry was suddenly asking her if she was alright. But she could hardly speak, much less respond to him.

"Is their lord with them?" Came her inquiry. Ser Arys replied with a nod.

"Is he alone?" She had to ask, not meeting Ser Arys's eyes nor replying to Gendry's question. She already knew the answer, but she just had to ask as if to solidify her suspicions.

"He's with his son…"

_Please don't say his name, _she suddenly found herself repeating the plea inside her head, as if in prayer_. _

"And some of their guards." Ser Arys continued.

It was Gendry who stood up first before offering his hand to help her get up.

She gladly took it, squeezing it a little bit harder after she was finally able to get on her feet.

Her heart began to pound faster with every breath she took, she could no longer mask the horror she was feeling. She even wanted to evaporate into thin air rather than face _him_, which was already inevitable considering that her presence was also needed. She could only swallow the thick lump forming in her throat.

After all these years, that _monster_ still haunted her like a nightmare.

Pulling all her defenses up like a fortress, she schooled herself to maintain an apathetic façade.

As they were making their way towards the Great Hall, she noticed that her direwolf was still missing. The last she saw of Nymeria was with her littermates, along with her brothers and Theon, doing their routine stroll in the nearby forest while the wolves were hunting.

"Are my brothers and the direwolves back?" She asked the Kingsguard.

"I'm afraid they have not returned yet, my lady." Was his response.

Arya only nodded, a frown forming on her face.

As if sensing her, Gendry asked her again. "What's wrong?"

She refused to meet his eyes before shaking her head. "Nothing. It has been hours since my wolf was away. Maybe my brothers got distracted with something again in the forest. That always happens and they don't even notice the time."

That statement was enough of an excuse for now because she couldn't really tell him the reason why she needed her direwolf so much at this moment. She couldn't tell him anything yet. For now, all she could think of was trying to keep her cool composure instead of succumbing to her fears. Not when the bastard of the Dreadfort was here to pay a visit. It wouldn't take a genius to put together the reason why they were here.

She took a deep breath, making sure to keep her nerves at bay.

She could do this. She was brave, and she was not afraid.

The doors to the Great Hall finally opened.

She walked towards the dais as if she was facing her execution. Every faltering step she took was her undoing, her gathered courage obliterating like it was all for nothing when it was his unforgettable face she saw first, his eyes trained on her, and only her, with wicked anticipation.

If Arya Stark was afraid of anything, it was in the form of the monster that was Ramsey Bolton –nightmare personified and the devil incarnate.

And he was there, a mere foot away from her, breathing the same air as hers.

She saw his wormy lips curling into a sinister smile. His eyes carrying the promise of finding ways to hurt her without physically touching her.

Arya badly wanted to hold Gendry's hand right now, if only to let him know that she needed his warmth at the very least but doing so would just be a dead giveaway. She didn't want Ramsey to know that Gendry already meant more than just means to a political alliance to her because she knew that the fucking bastard would always find a way to hurt Gendry. And Arya knew how capable Ramsey Bolton was of hurting people.

They were already halfway towards the dais when Ramsey met them in the middle, his confident stride and unwavering smile did not go unnoticed.

"My lady." Came his placating greeting.

"Ramsey." Was her cold response, giving him a deferential curtsy while keeping her stoic mask on.

Much to her horror, Ramsey took a hold of her hand before placing a kiss at the back of her palm. She felt nothing but disgust for him and there was nothing more she wanted at that moment than to amputate the hand that touched his lips.

It took all of her resolve not to react in disgust while abruptly pulling her hand away from his grasp.

"It's so good to see you grow so lovely and beautiful, my lady. It's been awhile." He remarked, his soulless eyes still leering at her.

"Thank you." Came her response, giving him a quick once-over before looking at the spot behind his head. She refused to acknowledge his invitation to bite back at his goading. She gave it a few seconds before she spoke again, "What brings you here?"

Ramsey didn't answer her question yet. Instead, he just gave her a wider smile in response before averting his gaze at Gendry and introducing himself with unabashed confidence, extending his hand. "Your Grace, my name is Ramsey Bolton, heir of the Dreadfort. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard so much about you."

Gendry took his hand for a brief handshake before he placed his hands behind his back. "Pleasure." The prince's response was brief and impersonal. He was also wearing a serious face fit for a snobbish royal. It was as if Gendry was pulling his rank on Ramsey with his laconic formaility.

With the way that Gendry was directing his sharp gaze at Ramsey, she knew that Gendry already had an idea of what has been happening behind the walls of the Dreadfort.

When they reached the foot of the dais, they were met by Ramsey's father, Lord Roose Bolton standing close to his guards. It looked like they were in the middle of getting an audience with the king and the lord of Winterfell.

Nevertheless, Arya still didn't forget her manners and brought herself to a forced curtsy before the lord of the Dreadfort. "My lord."

"Lady Arya. You've grown so beautifully." Lord Bolton complimented.

"Thank you, my lord." Was all she said before remaining silent once more, her eyes trained at the far end of the hall.

The short silence allowed for Lord Roose Bolton to speak again and have their agenda be known, "I am sure you are all wondering why my son and I have come to visit Winterfell today." He was looking at Gendry in particular before averting his eyes back to King Robert and her father. "It's all so simple. We are here to fight for the unity of the North. Seeing as word has reached the Dreadfort of the crown prince's betrothal to one of the noble ladies of Winterfell." His pithy bluntness was extraordinary and unnerving.

All the rest was rendered speechless by his statement. But not Arya.

Her blood boiled at their audacity.

"What do you mean, my lord?" It was Arya who had to ask, her voice laced with indignation.

It was Ramsey who approached her this time. It took all of her resolve not to cower and hide behind Gendry's protective frame.

"When I heard about your betrothal with His Grace, I have to say that I was disappointed at the very least. Because from the moment I saw you many years ago, you have already captured my heart, my lady." Ramsey told her before he continued, "And many years ago, your father had also sworn a sacred oath to the Old Gods give you to me as my bride when you've already flowered and become a woman grown."

Arya's jaw wanted to drop fully at the floor. Then she looked at her father.

"Is this true, father?" She asked, raising her voice in anger and seeking the truth from his eyes.

Her father was holding his temper, she knew it with the way that the muscles of his eyes were twitching.

He let out a deep sigh before he spoke, "It _was _true, Arya." His response was honest, but she noted the emphasis of the past tense in his statement.

"It was true before other circumstances happened and I had to break off your betrothal to Ramsey a few years ago." Her lord father added.

He and King Robert shared a look of unspoken understanding before the king continued speaking for her father, "I am responsible for your father changing his mind, Arya." He admitted solemnly. "I had your father break off your betrothal with Ramsey Bolton so that you and Gendry can be engaged because we found that your union will be a better match than the heir of the Dreadfort –one that will benefit the whole Seven Kingdoms, and not just the North. And that is the plain truth."

She couldn't see any lie in the king's words.

If anything, Arya was more than relieved to know of her broken betrothal with Ramsey. And she had to begrudgingly admit that she'd never been more thankful to King Robert for encouraging her father to change his mind because she just couldn't stomach having to marry a monster like Ramsey Bolton. She'd rather jump off the tower and slit her throat than become his wife.

She had never been more thankful for her match with Gendry, Arya realized and she was now regretting the time she threw tantrums the moment she was told she was betrothed to the prince because right now, she'd rather have Gendry than anyone else. She'd have Gendry whole-heartedly. No questions asked. Period.

"Which brings us to the reason why we are here. To let the competition that is His Grace, Prince Gendry Baratheon, heir of the Seven Kingdoms, know that I, Ramsey Bolton, heir of the Dreadfort, am the first to stake my claim to Lady Arya's hand in marriage." Ramsey said, his tone mocking and sarcastic. "Lord Stark had sworn an oath. And as a respected lord and Warden of the North, he never should have broken it. It was, after all, meant to unify the North as one unbreakable territory." Then Ramsey looked at Arya again, feigning sincerity in his eyes before he continued, "Which is why, I am here to honor that betrothal and fight for your hand, my lady, and ask that you reconsider and take me as your husband instead—for the glory and unity of the North. After all, a unified and fortified North is an asset to the peace of the Seven Kingdoms."

To Arya and everyone's surprise, Ramsey conjured a small box from his pockets and opened it, revealing a fancy ring glinting in the sunlight.

"Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell, I am humbly asking you to reconsider and be my lady wife. Till death do us part."

Arya wanted to kill Ramsey Bolton and feed his entrails for the wolves to feast on. She was speechless not because of her indecision, but because she had to keep herself from pulling out the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh and use it to slit Ramsey's throat slowly and painfully as she reveled in the blood draining out from his squirming body.

She took a deep breath before her eyes finally met the evil bastard's eyes. "I'm not going to accept your proposal, Lord Ramsey…"

Then to the surprise of everyone including herself, she took a step closer to Gendry and took his hand firmly in hers. She pulled away from Ramsey's glare then looked at Gendry. "You see, I have already chosen Gendry to be my husband. And I will always choose him regardless of his class or title." She said those words while looking at Gendry the entire time, letting him know that she'd rather have him than the monster of the Dreadfort.

Let her words today be a statement to everyone who bore witness to a binding promise she just made for her betrothed and her friend first and foremost.

Gendry gave her a genuine smile before bringing her hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss. The touch of his warm lips obliterated the fear lingering inside her system and her heart was filled with a renewed energy.

Then Gendry finally faced Ramsey Bolton, their hands still clasped tightly.

"My future wife and your future Queen has spoken, Lord Bolton. There is nothing more to be discussed here. You and your party can see yourselves out." Came his authoritative voice. Arya looked up at him one more time and saw the ruthlessness in Gendry's eyes. If looks could kill, he would have already murdered the Bolton bastard a thousand times over.

Ramsey kept the ring back inside his pockets and nodded in fake resignation before bowing at her and Gendry, "As you wish, Your Grace. And most of all, I respect whatever choice you have made, my lady. Long may you reign." Then he gave another bow at King Robert and her father. "Your Grace. Lord Stark." Then he left without another word.

Roose Bolton did the same and left the Great Hall without trying to dispute Arya's decision and even wished them all the best on their upcoming nuptials.

To everyone, it might seem like the Bolton's were just resigned to fully accepting Arya's decision, but knowing Ramsey's twisted mind, Arya knew that he'll have something cooking up his sleeve in retribution for facing such great humiliation today. She knew better than to take Ramsey lightly and she had to be ready for the day when he would strike back, especially now that he couldn't have what he wanted. And Ramsey always got what he wanted, regardless of how he took it.

It just dawned on her how her decision to choose Gendry just put a target on the prince's back as well. Oh, the irony. She should have thought of the repercussions after blatantly stating her choice to everyone. But then again, if she allowed herself to marry the Bolton bastard, it would also mean the literal end of her. Because she'd sworn that she'd really kill herself if she would marry Ramsey.

After the Dreadfort party was gone, Arya finally released Gendry's hand. As she looked at him, worry was etched all over his face.

"Hey, are you alright?" He asked her again for the nth time.

This time, Arya finally replied, albeit with a half-truth. "Yeah, nothing really grave. I still feel a bit tired, though." Then she spoke in a whisper. "My uterus is doing a summersault inside my body, if you know what I mean."

Gendry rolled his eyes. "You know that's not the only thing I am concerned about. Tell me what's wrong." He demanded, then he looked down to meet her eyes earnestly. "What did that bastard do to make you so scared of him, Arya? Did he touch you? Because if he did, I swear to the gods that I'm going to wage a war against the Dreadfort and flay that fucker myself."

Arya just snorted, just so that she could hide what she was truly feeling at that moment. "Oh, please. I'm going to kill that bastard first before anyone else could." Placing a hand on his shoulder in reassurance, she added, "I'm fine, Gendry. It's nothing I couldn't handle. What I want to do right now is pick up where I left off with my slumber."

Gendry put a hand around her playfully as they both started walking like the best friends that they were. "Come on. I'll walk you to your chambers before you fall asleep and drool all over me again."

Arya elbowed him in a playful manner. "Hey! I wasn't drooling on you!" She said defensively.

It was a few minutes after they were already standing a foot away from Arya's chambers when Gendry suddenly turned serious. But it was Arya who spoke first.

"Thanks for today, Gendry. Sorry if I had to retire in the middle of the day, I'm just really tired because of you-know-what." She apologized.

Gendry looked at her intently and shook his head, "You don't have to apologize for your body doing its natural process, Arya. I'll have one of the maids bring in some food for when you wake up later."

"Fine. But thank you regardless." Before turning around to open her door, Gendry stopped her when he suddenly reached out for her arm.

"Wait." Came his gentle voice which was almost a whisper now.

She looked up to face him again. His ocean eyes were a beautiful distraction to the turmoil she was feeling right now after what transpired in the Great Hall.

"What is it?" To her surprise, the hand that reached her out was now suddenly cupping her face. His warmth spreading all over her face and body like wildfire.

"Did you mean what you said? Back at the Great Hall. Or was it just part of this charade? I apologize if I had to ask…" He trailed off before looking away from her. He sounded so defeated. "I sometimes don't know what is true for you anymore. So I ought to ask you."

Arya's heart wanted to melt.

"Gendry. Look at me." She commanded, but she looked at him endearingly. His cerulean eyes met her steely greys again.

"I meant what I said." Arya herself was surprised at her response. But it was honest, nonetheless. "It's not a charade. I meant everything. And I choose you."

Gendry's other hand grabbed her waist and brought her closer to him so that she was now a breath away.

"So you'll marry me?" A hint of a smile could be seen from his face. He basically looked like a child being handed his favorite toy.

Arya rolled her eyes, her lips breaking into a smile as she slid her hands from his chest to his shoulders. "Obviously. But not anytime soon. Okay? Just let me have a little more time to enjoy being a non-married woman. Please?"

At her words, Gendry brought his lips to hers to give her an abrupt kiss. Much to Arya's dismay, he pulled away before the kiss could deepen. "Anything you want, Arya." He smiled widely this time. "Now, go and take a rest. I'll have one Kingsguard guard your door—"

"No! Just because I agreed to marry you does not mean—" She interrupted but Gendry shot back, rolling his eyes.

"I wasn't done yet. I'll have a Kingsguard on door duty while waiting for Nymeria to come back. I swear, it's not that painful having someone watch over you especially at this time. I don't trust the Boltons and I am not convinced that they just went home without a fight. They might even already have a spy in this castle. That being said, anything could happen to you." Gendry explained to her, his arm tightened around her waist.

She also almost sighed at the comforting hand cupping her face, his thumb gently trailing the side of her lips.

But she had to regretfully pull away from Gendry so that she could pull up her skirts, revealing her bare legs.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" His eyes widened in surprise but at the same time raked over her creamy thighs with unbidden lust.

She rolled her eyes again. "Oh, please. If I wanted you to fuck me right now, it wouldn't be in the middle of this sodden corridor where anyone could just see us." Arya chastised. "If only you don't thick with your cock, you should've seen by now that I'm actually hiding a dagger in my person. And I know how to use it. And I use it well."

Gendry was broken from his lecherous stupor.

"I'm not really questioning your skills in using weapons. But for now, it's better that you'll also have someone guard your door while waiting for Nymeria to come back. I swear they won't bother you. You're going to be sleeping for the rest of the day, anyway. You'd barely even know their presence."

Arya finally sighed in resignation, fixing her skirts. "Fine. I won't fight you over this just because I'm really close to going back to dreamland and there's nothing I like more than to throw myself on my bed and hug all my pillows as I sleep." Then she opened her mouth for a very unladylike yawn which earned Gendry a subtle laugh.

"Alright then. Go back to sleep, my lady. Don't let the bed bugs bite." He winked before waving goodbye.

After Arya closed her door, she wasted no time in locking it before she headed towards her window to make sure that they were locked and shut tight as well. She also made sure to check the rest of her room for any signs of an intruder hiding in the shadows. So far, there was no one. Yet.

Gendry was right in not trusting the Bolton's to just resign to their fate. She knew that everything was calculated, including their visit today. And as she put the pieces together, it dawned on her that there was a reason why her brothers and the direwolves were not back in Winterfell as the Boltons came over to visit.

Gendry was also right about the spy lurking within the very walls of Winterfell.

Because who else would report to the Boltons that her brothers and the wolves would be out hunting today? And to give the Boltons more time to plead their cause in Winterfell, something had to be done to stall the hunting party in the forest. Because had the Boltons visited today with all of the direwolves present, they wouldn't have left Winterfell alive because those wolves could smell their intentions. And they would have attacked without preamble.

Ramsey Bolton was a fucking clever bastard and she had to outwit him as soon as possible, or else he would be plotting against Gendry and she'll be taken away from her betrothed in the snap of a finger because she knew how much Ramsey was capable of all things unspeakable.

But first, she had to find the spy in Winterfell before it was too late.

**Gendry **

It was already in the middle of the afternoon when Arya's brothers and the direwolves came back from their hunt. Gendry was having a chat with Ser Arys right outside the forge when Nymeria suddenly padded towards him, inserting herself between the prince and the Kingsguard as if she wanted to be petted.

"Hey, girl." Gendry greeted, crouching before the direwolf and scratching her ear playfully. "Arya's asleep in her chambers. Please relieve Ser Barristan off his guard duty now and go watch over our lady, okay? We don't want anything bad to happen to our favorite person, do we?"

Nymeria licked his hand as if in approval.

"That's a good girl." Gendry cooed before Nymeria gave him one last nuzzle and headed directly towards the direction of Arya's chambers.

Just as he stood up, he was met by Jon.

"Hey, mate." He greeted Gendry. "I heard about what happened this morning."

"Yeah, a bit fucked is what it was, mate." Gendry remarked. They both started walking as they headed inside the castle.

"Nothing good really comes out of meeting fucking Ramsey Bolton. He's a complete git, that bloody bastard. We would've been there with you when they came to visit. But something happened as we were about to head back."

Gendry gave him a quizzical look. "What happened?"

Jon shook his head and made a face of disgust. "Right in the middle of the forest where we usually take the wolves for a hunt, we found a large pile of rotting carcasses…" Jon paused before adding, "Wolf carcasses in various states of decomposition. Fucking disgusting. So, essentially, Robb had to launch an investigation and had some more guards sent there with us to check the place."

Then it dawned on Gendry.

"Wolf carcasses. And half of the Dreadfort in Winterfell when that happened." He told Jon, "That was obviously a distraction, wasn't it?"

Jon nodded, having it all figured out as well. "Obviously a distraction. I know Ramsey Bolton. That bastard's got a sick mind."

"He seemed so obsessed with Arya." Gendry observed flatly, recalling the way Ramsey was leering at Arya as if she was his bloody feast for the day. He wanted to gut the Bolton bastard for staring at Arya like that and crush his head with his Warhammer.

Jon gave him a distraught look. "He's had a sick obsession for her, that I know."

The revelation didn't come as a surprise to Gendry.

"When did that start, anyway?"

Gendry hated talking about it, but he had to know at the very least so that he could have a thorough understanding about what was running inside the twisted mind of that Bolton monster.

Jon shrugged. "I never really know when it started, just that ever since Ramsey met our sister a few years ago, he's always been looking at her like he wanted to be the one to defile her. That fucker's known for raping helpless women and then feeding their lifeless bodies to his hounds. And he's got this fascination for Arya because she's unlike any other girl out there. She knows how to fight, and Ramsey seems challenged by it. At least that's what our spies in the Dreadfort tell us."

"Do you have any idea if that fucker ever touched Arya? I saw her face awash in absolute horror this morning. I mean, I know her to be brave but the moment she saw Ramsey, she looked so scared of him as if he'd hurt her before. Although I also had to admire the way she tried so hard to hide it. But fuck if I can see the fear in her eyes." Gendry asked Jon.

"Arya never told us anything, mate. But you're right. I also notice her fear of him whenever that bastard is around. And if something happens to my sister, or if I know that he had ever touched her, then I'm going to fucking kill that evil bastard. I hate that my father could not do anything about his inhumane crimes because his lord father always covers up for him. They're good at hiding evidences, those fucking Boltons." He saw the way Jon was clenching his jaw in anger, then he looked at Gendry "But you and my sister seem to be the best of friends already, maybe you can try coaxing her to tell you if Ramsey ever did touch her."

"But you're his favorite brother, mate. Surely, she should have told you something before?" Gendry supplied.

Jon only shook his head.

"Unfortunately, there are some things that Arya still keeps to herself, and this thing with Ramsey is one of those. But you're his betrothed, and one of her good friends first of all, you can try opening up to her when she's ready."

He gave Jon a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, mate. I'll try my best."

Jon clapped his back in appreciation, "I'm honestly glad and thankful that you're her betrothed. Did you know that? Well, not just me, but the rest of our siblings, Robb most especially. You're a good man, Gendry. And I know that you'll protect my sister with your life. For the record, she likes you so much, by the way."

Gendry smiled. He could feel his blood traveling to his ears. "Thanks, mate. But I'm not really sure if she also likes me that way, so there's no need to patronize me, really."

He heard Jon scoff. "Oh, believe me. She likes you, alright. She might not be that vocal, but I know my sister. So you don't really have to worry, mate. You have our blessing." Jon assured.

"Thank you, really." Then Gendry suddenly paused, realizing something. "Wait, isn't there going to be a part where you're going to threaten me and give me the brooding and protective older brother lecture?"

At his statement, Jon tossed his head back and laughed so hard. "There's really no need for that older brother lecture. You won't also be hearing anything from Robb because Arya's going to be the one who'd kill you first if you ever hurt her. Trust me. It makes our job a lot more easier."

"Thanks for the encouragement, mate. That's really heart-warming." Came Gendry's sarcastic remark, both finally reaching their destination.

It was in the Great Hall where they met with Robb and the rest of Arya's siblings for an afternoon snack. They were also talking about what had transpired in the Great Hall that morning and given the way Arya's siblings all had a common hatred for Ramsey, it would be a lot easier to take that bastard down when the time would come for the Dreadfort claim their retribution over their humiliating exit in Winterfell that day.

As for Gendry, he would be ready.

And he would have fun smashing Ramsey Bolton's skull with his newly-forged Warhammer. Then he'd let his future wife have fun with gutting Ramsey Bolton with her newly-forged sword.

What a great day for making a new weapon.

That evening, the crown prince of Westeros busied himself inside the forge, sullying his hands in making a new weapon for his beloved Queen.


	9. Chapter 9

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 9: Awakening**

**Arya **

Arya's growing curiosity about the feminine mystique had her spending the next days after her first moonblood in Winterfell's old library perusing over volumes upon volumes of writings about reproduction and womanhood. She'd even gone to the extent of reading over books about sex and its different positions. And being a visual learner herself, she only had her vivid imagination to do its job of picturing out how those positions were done.

Then Gendry just had to suddenly assault her thoughts with images of them doing those positions together, even those she never thought were actually possible. But then again, given their circumstance, she was well aware of the inevitability of them doing those acts in their marriage.

A sense of exhilaration shot through her, especially in the knowledge that Gendry was obviously skilled in this department considering how he kissed and touched her when he had her pinned in the hallway.

She wondered how her first time with him would be. Or in the least, how the feeling of having to climax from self-induced pleasure felt. At least she could start with the basics of how to touch herself instead of directly propositioning Gendry to fuck her and take her maidenhead.

She was madly curious that she was already that close to storming off the library just to find him and have him teach her the right way of touching herself. She knew that she was already that close one time, but she never really achieved the climax she was desperately seeking.

Right now, there was nothing more she wanted than to feel her very first release. And she needed Gendry's help. Stat.

She suddenly felt very hot, she could have sworn the insides of her thighs were getting slicker.

Arya badly wanted to feel these things and she'd never get her peace unless she would get what she wanted. It wouldn't really matter if she was going to do it outside of marriage because she was going to marry Gendry either way. And right now, she just wanted to feel right and celebrate her womanhood with the aid of his skillful fingers, and perhaps even with his tongue.

There was also no more denying her carnal cravings for him.

Breath hitching, she bit her lip as her hands slowly wound their way to the sides of her neck until she was raking her hair, disheveling it in the process. She felt so hot, she wanted to take her clothes off and begin touching herself.

But she was broken from her erotic state of trance when she heard a knock from the door.

"Fuck." She cursed, jumping in her seat. It only took a few seconds to fix herself and make it seem like she wasn't just on the verge of giving in to her lecherous desires.

The door slowly opened to reveal Gendry slipping inside the library and casually heading towards the corner where she was seated.

Arya felt a sense of panic before she slammed the book that contained graphic images of two people fucking in different positions shut.

Gendry raised a curious eyebrow at her state of panicked disarray before his eyes traveled to the book that she just closed. It only took a second for him to draw a conclusion based on the wicked smile slowly forming on his lips.

"Reading, are we?" He teased.

Arya's heart plummeted at his deep voice.

He stopped right before her seat and was about to grab the book. Lucky enough for her, she had quick reflexes, so she was able to pull away from him before he could snatch the book from her hands.

"Don't!" She warned, a profuse blush spreading on her cheeks as she started to stand up and walk towards the shelf where she plucked the damned book.

Gendry was behind her in an instant.

Arya clutched the book in her chest to prevent Gendry from snatching it. Just as they reached the shelves in the far side of the old library, she stopped and turned around to face him.

"What are you doing?" She asked in annoyance.

Gendry feigned an innocent face and shrugged. "Nothing. Just following m'lady."

She tried to push him away, but he only felt like a solid brick wall, considering his towering height and massive frame.

"Go back out there, Gendry, and let me return this book in peace." Arya made another slight push to no avail.

"But I'm curious about what that book is about, Arya." He told her petulantly.

"Shut up. You don't need to read this book." She reasoned.

"I'll be the judge of that. What's the big deal? I just want to have a look." She almost fell for his pleading eyes but at the same time she wanted to mock him for looking like a pathetic idiot.

"Oh, fuck off! You can't have this!"

But Gendry was being the stubborn bull that he was because the next thing Arya knew was him suddenly seizing the book from her hands with his sheer strength, then raising it above his head to where it was impossible for her to reach.

Arya could do nothing more than just release a sigh of defeat as she shook her head and crossed her arms.

"Fine! It's not fucking fair that you're so tall, stupid." She grumbled.

It only earned a triumphant smile from her betrothed.

He then started to flip over the pages of the book with all those erotic images. "My, my, what do we have here?"

"Shut up, Gendry. Don't start."

"I'm just a bit surprised that you're reading something like this, is all…"

"Ugh. I was bored and curious, and I don't want to spend another tedious minute listening to my septa lecture me about how to fucking keep my filthy mouth shut instead of debating with her, so I had to hide myself here. There, are you happy now?" Came her explanation, huffing an exasperated sigh.

"Well, you haven't been hiding properly because I still found you, didn't I?" He told her.

"It's only because I already told you about my secret spot here in the library. Duh." Came her matter-of-fact response.

"Of course. I always remember the little things." He winked as he continued flipping through the book that got him curious as well.

Judging from the way that his smile became wider, he was enjoying too much as he perused over the more graphic parts of the book.

He averted his eyes at her and gave her a sinister look, "Curious now, are we? Can't wait for our wedding night, love?"

"I wasn't planning on waiting for our wedding night, _love_." She emphasized, the endearment passing from her lips mockingly.

Her statement earned Gendry's attention as he stopped leafing through the book and shot her a confused look. "What do you mean?"

But Arya initially refused to divulge what she wanted for fear of being rejected.

"Arya?" Gendry asked her again, this time putting the book back on a random shelf that had an open space.

Arya just shook her head and took a step backwards until her shoulders hit the wooden shelf. She was practically at a loss for words, much less have the guts to ask it from him. But the curiosity forming at the back of her head was gnawing at her, and she really needed to find that release.

A brief shot of silence fell until she spoke again.

"It's nothing important, Gendry." She told him in a small voice, trying her best to meet his eyes to make it seem like she was telling the truth.

But Gendry wouldn't have it. Instead, he walked over towards her direction until he was a breath away from her, and she was now pinned to the shelves, the scenario looking much more like a repeat from when they had their first kiss. He raised his hulking arms to the sides of her head as if caging her as his blue eyes searched hers. His musky male scent only made her want to devour him more.

He turned serious in an instant.

"Try me." He told her, his willingness to listen was endearing.

"Err, well. I just got curious…" She trailed off before she swallowed, "And…" She had to think fast to divert his attention. "And I just have some questions about sex and your experiences, and some other shit like that."

Gendry released a sigh. "Alright. Then ask away. Ask me anything you want to know." He told her sincerely, maintaining their closeness.

She gave him a look of disbelief because she was expecting him to be at least elusive with her request, but she was surprised to see him so willing to answer her questions.

"Really? Anything?"

Gendry nodded, "Anything, Arya."

There was a pause before she finally asked, "When was your first time and who did you do it with?"

"A day before my fifteenth name day. And with a beautiful woman from Braavos."

Arya continued to unfalteringly hold his piercing gaze.

"Tell me more." Was all she said.

"Her name was Alina. She was the daughter of a wealthy merchant. She was seductive, enticing, and independent. She was four years older than me, and she was definitely a lot more _experienced_. She saw the way I looked at her, like I was in awe of her independence… and then before my name day, it happened.

"There was a feast in my honor, and we had the chance to talk, then when we were already well in our cups, we fucked for the first time. We fucked the whole time she stayed in King's Landing, until it was time for her to go back to Braavos. With her vast experience, she taught me how to please a woman in many ways and fuck them hard."

Arya nodded, absorbing all the details he told her.

"Were there many others after her?"

"Yes. Many more after her." Came his honest response, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Did you also fuck whores?"

Gendry contemplated for a few seconds before he replied, "Now that I think of it, I realize that I never really have."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I don't want to have to pay someone to have sex with me."

"And why is that?"

Gendry shrugged, "Because I don't want sex to feel like a mere transaction. I want the other person to enjoy it as much as I do. I don't want to compel someone to fuck me just because I paid them to do it."

"So, if you didn't fuck whores, then what kind of women did you fuck back in King's Landing?"

"Every now and then the Red Keep receives visitors from all across the Narrow Sea, mostly from the Free Cities of Essos, so I got to meet these exotic beautiful, open-minded, freethinking women who are open to sex who do not give a shit about me besmirching their honor. Some of them are daughters of traveling merchants, others are princesses from far away kingdoms outside of Westeros." He replied.

Arya felt a pang of jealousy for those women, partly because Gendry fucked them, but mostly because she envied the sort of sexual freedom they had, and she aspired to be freethinkers like them, too, instead of belonging to a rigid world where her maidenhead was considered a commodity.

She nodded in understanding before she continued, "When was the last time you fucked someone?"

"Just two days short of the time my father told me the news of my betrothal to you, which was around two months ago." He replied, before he added, "Though, I had to be honest with you. I was so tempted to fuck someone else after he told me the news, just to spite him as a form of my pseudo-rebellion to this alliance. I wasn't really happy when he broke the news of my engagement, you know. I was so fucking livid, I wanted to run away. But I didn't act on it because I don't want to cause any more trouble to the kingdom, so I just resorted to accepting my fate." He explained.

She gave an instinctive snort of disbelief at his response but deep inside, it shot a direct arrow at her heart, knowing too well that it had just been a few months since he was with another woman. No matter how confusing her feelings got her, she didn't let him see how his reply affected her.

"Why stop when you know that you enjoy fucking so much?" She was challenging him, pushing him to his limits.

"Because I am already intended to someone. Plain and simple."

Arya raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"You don't believe me, then?" He shot back.

Arya only shook her head. "For all I know, you could have been fucking some random woman when you were stopping by Winter Town."

Her commentary only earned a full-blown yet dangerous smile from Gendry before he drew himself closer to her, his lips now touching her ear while his hands gripped her waist to draw her closer to him.

She did the same by letting her hands travel across his broad chest until they settled on his shoulders. Her mind was diving into an internal battle of whether to push him away or keep him within her grasp. But she knew from the start that she'd already lost the moment his warm breath gave her all the right shivers all over her body.

"You think it was easy for me to stop feeding my carnal appetites?" He started, his voice sounding like sin.

Like her, he could feel Gendry slowly losing his resolve the more he touched her.

"Just imagine having to forgo all those times I've fucked two women at the same time. It went from that hot fucking session to another, then down to just using my own bloody hands to wank myself to thoughts of that old life."

Arya tried her best not to hyperventilate at the thought.

Fuck, what he said was so hot.

Wanting to torture herself more, she continued asking, "How do you fuck two women at once?"

She just needed to know more if only to help quench her sudden thirst for this erotic knowledge. She needed to feel what it was like to be aroused sexually by Gendry Baratheon.

"It's simple." He whispered, dipping his head lower so that he was now at the junction of her neck, inhaling her scent and letting his lips travel back to her ear. "I'm on my back, and one woman is impaling herself on my cock, while another one sits on my face while I lick her hot, wet cunt to climax. Get the picture now?"

Gendry finally pulled away as he waited for her reaction.

His admission had indeed rendered her speechless, but she nodded anyway.

"Cat got your tongue, Stark?" He smirked.

She had to save face before her dumb self got the better of her.

"Well, I was thinking…" She trailed off, it was her turn to give him a wicked smile as she challenged him. "When we get married, can we do that? I mean you fuck me and someone else at the same time?"

Gendry gently tugged her chin to keep their eye contact.

"I won't become polygamous once we get married, love." He explained. "I'm a selfish bastard. I don't want to share you with anyone else."

Arya snorted mockingly at his retort. "Big words, Baratheon. You're only saying that now because you're enthralled by the entire idea of an untouched maiden like me." She told him confidently.

She felt his thumb lingering on her lips and pulling them gently apart. She had half a mind to bring his thumb to her mouth to gently suck it.

"Just for the record, Stark. I don't really fuck virgins."

Her eyes widened at the revelation, doing her best not to look so surprised than she already was.

"Don't bullshit me."

"It's true. When we get married, you'll be the first virgin I'll be fucking. As hard as it is for you to believe."

"Well, for the record, Baratheon, you won't be fucking a virgin on our wedding night." Came her brazen statement, her earlier qualms about asking him to teach her were finally obliterated.

Gendry narrowed his eyes on her suspiciously, his hand now traveling to the back of her head, making her look up at him while he slowly brought his face a little closer to hers once more.

"What are you really getting at, Stark? First, you're telling me you're not planning on waiting for our wedding night, then now you're saying I won't be fucking you a virgin. Are you planning on losing your maidenhead before we actually get married?"

Arya swallowed hard. Now was the time to come clean and get on with it.

"Honestly, yes." Came her response. Gendry was about to talk back but she shut him up with a finger on his lips. "And before you say anything else, just hear me out."

Gendry finally nodded, allowing her to continue.

"I want to know what it feels like, Gendry… to actually lay with a man for my pleasure. Or to start with, at least know how to touch myself. And I want you to teach me how to do it. I don't really care for my maidenhead as well. I fully believe that it's a medieval notion that should be eradicated because it's not really a valid measure for anyone's self-worth—be it a man's or a woman's self-worth. Virginity is just a social construct. And I want to be able to feel how pleasurable sex can be without thinking about honor and duty."

He gave her a confused look. "But why can't you wait for when we get married? It's inevitable that we're going to consummate it, anyway. And I promise you, I'm going to make you feel so good."

Arya shook her head, "You don't understand. Consummation during our marriage night is just an act of duty. I want to be fucked because I want to, and not just to fulfill some highborn duty. I know you get what I mean. You just said so yourself that you don't pay to fuck because you don't want your partner to be compelled to submit to you just because you gave them your coin. It's the same for me. I don't' want to do it just out of obligation. A woman has needs, too. And this is one of them."

Gendry gave her an apologetic look before he brought his lips to her forehead, kissing her gently. Then he pulled away and met her eyes again, "I don't know, Arya… I don't really know what to say right now." He told her, giving her an unhinged look. "Besides, your brothers and your father and the rest of your father's guards are going to feed me to your direwolves if I so much as sully your honor before we actually get married. And word travels fast around these walls."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, "I just said I don't fucking care about my maidenhead."

"But I don't want to break your family's trust, Arya. This is different."

Disappointment washed over her features as the feeling of insecurity enveloped her senses at the thought of being rejected by Gendry Baratheon.

She suddenly felt so unwanted.

Arya had really thought he'd finally give in after he just shared to her some of his sexual escapades, but she was greatly wrong. And she'd never been more embarrassed in her life for asking him for something like this.

She schooled her features to remain indifferent, as if his rejection just didn't break through her high walls and made her look like a fool. Then she finally said in an unaffected fashion, "Alright, then. If you say so."

Pulling away from him, she started heading back towards the table where she was initially staying before he came to the library.

He followed her suit. "Arya, wait." He called out.

She refused to meet his gaze for fear of him seeing the real expression of hurt from her face. She felt so stupid for trying to ask him in the first place. And she only had herself to blame.

Arya tried to make herself busy by grabbing the books scattered all over the table and pretending to pile them up for her to return them back to their respective shelves.

"Arya…" Gendry called out.

"I said it's fine, Gendry." Her lie tasted like ash. "It's not a big deal."

But Gendry wasn't obviously having it. Walking towards the opposite side of the table, he stood there wearing a domineering face.

"I know what you're doing. Stop avoiding me and look at me."

She finally stopped what she was doing and averted her eyes at him. At this moment, she wasn't looking at her best friend, but the true prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Authoritative Gendry was as dangerously sinful as horny Gendry that she almost lost all her resolve. She was that close to throwing herself at him.

Releasing a deep sigh, she finally spoke, "You're right. I know you're scared of breaking my family's trust. I understand. I was wrong to involve you in my curiosity. I shouldn't have asked you." Came her statement, her gaze never breaking away from his.

Then, out of the sinister depths of her mind came an idea that was far more wicked. She wanted to torture him for being such an unyielding prick. And what better way than to use her powers as a woman.

Albeit new to this kind of warfare, she knew that seduction was as powerful as fighting in the battlefield.

Shrugging her shoulders, she feigned nonchalance. "Anyway, I still do have many other options, and asking you was just one of them. So, you see, you're not really the only choice. In fact, I was expecting that you'd decline because you're such an honorable prince at best…" She trailed off as she grabbed the pile of books and started walking back towards the shelves and one by one returning the books in their respective place.

Gendry was following her to the shelves again, his footsteps getting heavier this time.

She turned back around to face him, and as expected, his expression morphed into sheer horror, "You wouldn't dare!" He exclaimed, eyes growing wide in outrage.

A triumphant smile bloomed on her face, flipping her hair away with one hand for added effect, "What's with the objection? I was just about to say that I'm going to have to learn by myself. Without your help."

Relief passed over Gendry's features this time, but he kept his serious expression.

"Well, you made it seem like you were going to ask the help from someone else." He deadpanned.

"I'm not that stupid as to just throw myself at some random guy just for the sake of seeking pleasure from someone that's not you. And I won't just go about breaking the contract I signed regarding our betrothal."

He searched her eyes again, giving her a pleading look, "You swear? Even after I depart Winterfell and go back to the capital, you're not going to find anyone else who will teach you all those things?"

Upon hearing what he just said, her mood suddenly darkened, her smug attempt at seduction instantly forgotten. She'd been so used to having him around that he had already become a constant in her daily life. And now, hearing him say that he was leaving brought a whole new kind of desolate feeling within her.

"You're going back to King's Landing already? When?" It was all she had to ask, disregarding Gendry's initial plea.

Gendry nodded solemnly before he replied, "Yes. We're going back in seven days. That is also the reason why I initially sought you out, to tell you ahead of our eventual departure. But then I got sidetracked by what you were reading, and well, you know the rest."

"Oh…" Was all Arya said.

She suddenly could not explain what she was feeling right that moment. She could not even bring herself to meet his eyes.

"Say something." Gendry implored, suddenly feeling his arms circling around her waist as she was drawn once more to the furnace-like warmth of his body. This time, there was nowhere else to look but straight into his expectant gaze.

"Well…" She trailed off, followed by swallowing a lump inside her throat, "It would be hypocritical if I wouldn't say I won't be missing you once you come back to the capital. But I'll live. It's not like we're never going to see each other again." She finally confessed.

"You're going to miss me?" He was beaming brightly, she could even see the dimple on his face. Arya could never forget that stupid look.

It was everything, but he didn't need to know that yet.

She wanted to give in and smile back, but she had to keep her cool and make it sound like she wasn't already crazy for him.

She had to play the game of faces right now because showing him her true emotions would only lead to the end of the chase. And she wanted him to chase her. She wanted to see him work hard for her affections.

So, she settled for a nonchalant, "Obviously. But don't sound too happy about it." In her defense, she let out a snort but her cheeks were already hurting from keeping herself from smiling back.

Gendry was never going to stop teasing her if he so much as saw her swooning at him like a giddy fool.

He threw his head back and laughed heartily at her retort.

"That's my girl." He said before drawing his face closer to her in an attempt to kiss her. But before his lips met hers, she put a finger on his lips once more.

"Nuh-uh, you're not getting any from me today."

He let out a huff of disappointment, his face contorting comically.

"Why not?"

Pulling away from his tight hold, she replied, "Just because." Then she started walking away from him.

"Awww, come on, Arya. Don't leave me hanging here." He was following her like a lost puppy.

"Oh, don't be such a baby, Gendry." She didn't stop to wait for him instead, she continued walking. "Now, I'm famished. I realized I haven't really eaten my midday meal yet. Care to join me in the kitchens? We'll try to see what's left of this morning's food to salvage."

**Gendry**

Arya and Gendry were sitting at the communal table in the kitchens of Winterfell, sharing a meal of mashed potatoes, dried beef and some assorted fruits. Since it was already midafternoon when they came down to the kitchens, most of the servants were done with the meal preparations, so they had left the pair to their own devices.

Well, Arya ate most of the food on their shared plate while Gendry observed her with fascination as she gobbled up the last bits of her meal.

It wasn't until she started eating their dessert that he noticed what she was doing.

The kitchen maids actually served them a plate of cream puffs for their dessert in which Arya was happy to indulge.

She was eating them with a passion, closing her eyes dreamily and to his surprise, moaning in as if she were in pleasure.

All of his blood rushed to his cock at the sound of her satiated moans.

_Fuck_.

But Arya seemed to be oblivious by his arousal because she just continued eating the remainder of the cream puffs to her heart's content. At one point, he noticed the cream puff bursting near her mouth when she took a bite which left a little bit of those white cream on the side of her lips, it almost seemed as if she was—he stopped his thoughts and swallowed hard.

_Fuck me. _He internally cursed again.

As if stopping his train of thoughts did anything to tame his growing arousal.

Seeing her with the remnants of the white cream on her lips only made him think of her sucking his cock until he came and she was swallowing all of his seed.

He fought the urge to reach out and wipe the cream away from her lips using either his fingers or his tongue. Because if he acted on his impulse, he was certain that what he'd be doing next would be to lay her down on the table and hungrily feast on her like an actual meal. Or fuck her hard and senseless on the wooden table in broad daylight.

Just as he was trying to restrain himself, he suddenly noticed her opening her eyes and looking directly at him as she was slowly bringing her finger to her lips. Then before he knew it, she was suddenly sucking her fingers slowly. Seeing her like that was painfully delicious because there's nothing more he'd like to do than let her suck him off instead and put her mouth to good use.

There was a mischievous glint in her eyes as she continued sucking her fingers.

"Hmmmm…" She moaned, her eyes dancing seductively as she was looking at him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Was all he could ask.

But Arya just ran her tongue along the sides of her lips, licking off the remaining white cream that was beautifully staining her face.

She then shrugged, feigning innocence. "Enjoying dessert."

Two fingers were now inserted inside her mouth, sucking wet sounds reverberated in his ears accompanied by her subtle moans.

_Gods_.

"Don't you want to have a taste of dessert, love?" She asked, her voice an octave higher as she batted her doe-eyes at him. "It's so deliciously creamy, I just couldn't stop myself."

Looking at her so seductively beautiful like that was just so painful that he was suddenly having second thoughts about his decision earlier to decline her unexpected indecent proposal of giving him the permission to defile her for the first time.

He was standing on the edge, self-control be damned. She already had him wrapped around her dainty little fingers.

He breathed in a lungful of air if only to restrain himself. Then he finally met her eyes with resolve.

"I know what you are doing." He said, "And I won't fall for it, Arya."

Arya raised an eyebrow smugly, "Oh, you won't, will you?" She challenged.

That's it. He'd had enough. He couldn't bear another minute being seduced by her, or else he'd really be fucking the living daylight out of her. He had to stay away from her for the rest of the day.

He finally stood up, his cock still straining in his breeches. Weeping and waiting for it to be buried inside her warm, wet cunt, or inside her filthy little sweet mouth.

_Fuck, Waters. Stop being such a fucking green boy. _He chided himself.

"Where are you going? Off to give yourself a decent wank?" She taunted, smiling nefariously.

He equaled her sadistic smirk as he came closer to her face, vindicating himself from the sheer humiliation of being utterly seduced by his sultry little minx. "Something like that, love." Came his raspy whisper. He was so sure that he'd heard Arya's breath hitch, equally as affected as him by their undeniable tension.

Then he gave her a wink before leaving the kitchens, his feet leading him to his sanctuary—the forge.

**Arya**

Arya had been having trouble sleeping ever since that somewhat tragic indecent proposal that had transpired in the library.

A part of her was still embarrassed for having been too aggressive about opening up to Gendry about her sudden sexual desires. But a much deeper part of her was dreading Gendry's eventual departure a few days from now.

Not running into him for more than a day seemed like a welcome consolation to her. Well, if she'd been honest, it was more like she was sort of avoiding him.

The last she'd seen of him was when they were at the kitchens with her making the best attempt at seducing him. Whether he was really aroused at what she'd done or not was already beyond her. But she could have sworn that she'd caught a glimpse of the bulge from his breeches right before he'd left her.

Her thoughts suddenly drifted to the moment he'd told her of his colorful _sexcapades_.

_Seven bloody Hells_.

A blush betrayed on her cheeks as she pictured out a mental image of him naked with her spread on the table. In the library.

Screaming out his name.

_Gods. _

Arya shut her eyes closed in the hope of finding sleep and more importantly, shunning those unbidden lecherous thoughts away. But she knew too well that it was already impossible, so she rose up to a sitting position and propped her arms on her knees.

Raking her already mussed up hair, she tried to steady the fast beating of her heart.

This was all Gendry fucking Baratheon's fault for having this kind of effect on her.

Arya groaned in frustration at the dark lustful thoughts lingering inside her head.

Pulling her sheets away from herself, she stood up and stormed to her wooden chest, grabbed a blue satin robe and hastily put it on. She was used to wearing nightclothes without wearing smallclothes underneath it, so the cold draft of the breaking dawn did not bother her. She also had her hair untied, its wavy brown strands flowing freely down her shoulders.

She walked back to her featherbed and strapped a small dagger to her right thigh.

After everything was set, she wore her brown boots and carefully walked towards her door. Nymeria must have sensed her movements when she tried to unlock her door because her direwolf was now padding along behind her as she headed out of her bedchambers.

She found that she had to get rid of these thoughts and fast, and what better way than to take a walk outside before the rest of Winterfell woke up.

She took a stop at the kitchens to grab something to eat as her stomach had not stopped growling after neglecting to eat a proper meal last night. Nymeria, on the other hand, directly ran towards the godswood for a hunt.

Finally treading out of the kitchens, she concealed herself by carefully walking along the castle walls, clutching to her loaf of bread wrapped in a clean piece of starch cloth.

As she continued to walk along the castle grounds, she heard the familiar sound of ringing steel somewhere in the direction of the forge. She turned her head towards the smithy and saw that the fires were lit.

It seemed occupied.

But who could be hammering steel inside the forge at this time of the day? The sun hadn't even risen up yet and usually their blacksmith, Mikken, would come to the forge after sunrise.

Instead of heading straight for the godswoods, Arya's curiosity got the better of her as her feet led her directly to the forge. As she stood at the open doorstep, she could not believe what her eyes were seeing.

Inside the forge was Gendry hammering some steel, completely half-naked, sleek, and covered in sweat and a little bit of soot. He was wearing only his breeches and boots. He was facing away from her, so she was met by his massive posterior.

She could practically see the play of his muscles on his broad shoulders and back, her breath suddenly hitching at the unexpected sight.

Along with the hammering of steel was the pounding of her heart, threatening to explode. It made her unconsciously bite the lower part of her lip.

Holy gods, she couldn't stop looking at him.

The effect of Gendry Baratheon was slowly consuming her that she felt the uncontrollable urge to lunge into him and run her hands all over that breathtaking, delectable body of his.

Arya suddenly regretted passing by the forge to feed her curiosity. He was the main reason why she was trying to get into the godswood to clear her mind and here he was _distracting_ and _luring_ her again into his flame.

The up and down movements of his right arm as his hammer pounded through steel led her to awaken her vivid imaginations of how those strong arms would support her as he would pin her to the wall while he was penetrating her so hard.

_Fuck_. It was all she could do to curse internally. Because she was admittedly imagining being fucked senseless by Gendry Baratheon. Her resolve of wanting him to claim her maidenhead and defile her with his filthy words and fuck her like an animal was only growing stronger. It was all she could think of.

Arya's breath hitched all the more as she felt the familiar slicking wetness in the center of her thighs just at the thought of Gendry making her moan and scream. She knew she was aroused because she was already trying to press her thighs together for that need for release.

She gripped on the doorjamb of the smithy to control herself. Her nails were now scratching, digging in to the wooden jamb if only to get a grip of reality instead of losing herself in the process of fantasizing him fucking her.

This wasn't her at all.

The fact that she hated their betrothal and the idea of marriage wasn't even helping. No, in fact, just the sight and the scent of him near her awakened all her prurient fantasies. Would this be the perfect time to believe in those nonexistent gods? Because surely she would need a lot of divine intervention right now from controlling her impulses of devouring him like a hungry animal.

She noticed that he stopped hammering when he put his hammer down and carefully picked up the small steel he was holding in his hand. He moved to the bucket on the table beside him and soaked the steel into the water, the metal sizzling at the contact.

Arya swallowed the lump on her throat as she continued to observe him furtively. There was definitely something about the way his naked back glowed along the embers inside the forge that made her bewitched by his spell and she wondered if this was the effect he had on all those girls he fucked back in King's Landing—

"Anything I can help you with, my lady?" Came Gendry's deep and raspy voice.

Arya almost jumped in fright the moment he spoke which meant that he knew all along that she was watching him the whole time. Before she could even respond, he turned his back away from her so that he was now facing her with that usual stolid look on his dirty, filthy, handsome, attractive face.

_Seven hells_.

She threw a whole bunch of internal expletives when she met his eyes, his face and the rest of his bare chest, all on clear view. She swore she could stay this way and drink him in for all of eternity. Never in her entire life had she thought how slick sweat could become so attractive on someone. And it looked so beautiful on Gendry. The muscles on his back were spectacular but the ones on his front were even more mouth-watering.

He looked so fit, so toned, so… _everything_. And there was definitely something about the soot stains marking some parts of his perfect body, even on his face that turned her on all the more. She wanted to run her fingers along the crevices of his chest and wipe them away with her fingers… _and perhaps with her tongue_…

And then those perfect blue eyes were watching her, watching him. She had never seen such perfect contrast from the black from his hair.

Arya remained speechless, her tongue obviously caught in her stupid throat.

"You know you could go on staring until the sun is up, I really wouldn't mind." He smugly teased, breaking her state of trance.

She blinked back twice just to come back to the here and now and glared at him, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

"Dream on, Baratheon." She managed to reply dismissively, doing her very best to mask her denials.

Gendry smirked dangerously as his attractive blue eyes continued to linger on her steely grey ones.

"I could practically hear you breathing earlier that's why I knew you've been watching me. Can't you be more discreet?" He continued to tease her with that stupid grin on his face.

"Will your smug, stupid mouth ever shut up?" Arya rolled her eyes before she motioned to finally get inside the forge.

She settled herself on top of an unoccupied wooden table so that she could give a few feet of distance away from him. Pulling herself away from his gaze, she tried to find another distraction so that she wouldn't be lured back under his spell.

She finally resorted to opening the starch cloth on her lap to reveal the food she had stolen from the kitchens. Perhaps it was best to feed her hunger with real actual food. Breaking the loaf in two, she started getting a small piece from the other half and stuffed it inside her mouth. At least she could make chewing a good diversion rather than ogle at him the whole time with the threat of involuntarily drooling right before his very eyes.

She heard him give a furtive mocking laugh at her reaction as he slowly walked closer towards the table where she was sitting. Just when she thought that her heart was about to stabilize given her uncompromised position, she felt it racing back to overdrive as he drew closer and closer to her without taking his hungry eyes away from hers.

Arya's eyes widened as he inched his way to her like a wolf, all in his graceful glory, his body still slick with sweat and gleaming under the light of the fire. He leaned closer as each of his hands grasped the edge of the wooden table. She felt stationary in between where his arms were rested. He kept that dangerous look on his face coupled with a knowing smirk on his lips as he continued to tease her with his stare.

"You've been avoiding me." He told her. It wasn't even a statement.

She made a subtle gulp.

"Care to tell me why?" He asked.

"I wasn't avoiding you." A lie.

"We both know that's bullshit." He stated, turning serious.

"I don't want to talk about it." Was her only statement because she still couldn't bring herself to talk about her bruised ego.

"Fine." He hissed before huffing a sigh, his eyes still did not leave her. He was still looking at her intently, carefully studying her.

In the hope of stabilizing the fast beating of her stupid heart, Arya's eyes traveled away from his face only to be drawn to the body of muscles which was now at a closer proximity to her. She took a few seconds to study the rhythmic pulsations on his neck down to the frame of his broad shoulders and well-formed chest. She could not help but get lost in the way his sweat trickled along the fissures of his pecs down to his abdomen, then a little further down to his waist only for her eyes to be led to what was underneath his breeches.

She took a rich intake of air and she could feel his scent diffusing into her nostrils, engulfing her with the smell of soot, sweat and something more. It was that familiar, manly scent of his that made her insides go into rampage. Then she made a huge gulp before her eyes continued to stare at what was hidden behind those breeches and she could definitely tell that he was hard, very _hard_ for _her_.

She could feel her throat go dry all of a sudden, all the hunger she was feeling before was gone. Her hand clutched at her bread a little too tightly as she fought her impulse of clawing her fingers at his damn appealing body or grasping at the hardness of his –

"Arya…" Gendry's raspy voice woke her up from her stupor.

She brought her eyes back to his confident gaze and managed to utter a few words in response, "What is it?" She spat with a broken voice. She wasn't sure if she was irritated because he was really stupid or because he had broken her trance. She heard Gendry chuckling.

"I'm quite hungry, you see. Can you give me some of that bread, love?" He asked her, this time grinning impishly and obviously caught between intimidating her and teasing the shit out of her.

Arya scowled at him murderously before she handed him the bread without further hesitation just to get it over with. But he didn't seem to move a muscle as he was still slightly leaning closely to her.

"I'm filthy all over, including my hands." He told her calmly, "Can you feed me with your hands instead?" Came his preposterous request, his lips now curling into a very sinister smirk.

She blushed for a few heartbeats until she finally did as he bid.

Pulling a small piece of bread, she raised her hand near his lips to start feeding him. Gendry slowly opened his mouth as he leaned down slightly to capture the small piece of bread from her fingers with his lips. His ice blue eyes were still intently looking at her, leering her. As he started chewing the bread he was eating, he gave her a delighted smile.

"Thanks." He said to her good-naturedly.

Arya only rolled her eyes and made an exasperated sigh.

The silence was broken when he began to speak again.

"You look different." He remarked after swallowing the bread he was chewing in his mouth, studying her face then the clothes she was wearing.

"I look fucking horrible is what it is." She said, suddenly getting conscious about the state of her messy hair.

Gendry only drew his face closer to her neck as he started sniffing at her.

"No, you don't." He protested before he carefully traced the tip of his nose along the smoothness of her neck which was furtively pulsating with desire for him.

She was stupid enough to be having this kind of stupid reaction again at his touch. He only continued sniffing at one side of her neck in which she made an instinctive tilt on the other side to give more room for him and his nose. She bit her lip at the minimal sensation of his stubble tickling her neck.

"You even have that same enticing scent on you." He whispered suggestively which made her breath hitch all the more.

His voice only made her grow weaker to resist him.

"You look like the most tempestuous she-wolf in the North right now. All-consuming, all-powerful…" Gendry whispered.

Arya released the breath she had been holding, making a short whimper at the sound of his voice. Gendry came to face her once more, still holding that confident aura in his face.

Before she could give in to the play of his words and the way his eyes were stripping her naked, she tore another bigger piece of bread and held her fingers back up to the side of his lips.

"Eat." She commanded him with a cold voice, feigning indifference.

The moment she moved her fingers closer to his lips was the same moment he opened his mouth to eat the bread she was offering. Her finger accidentally brushed the insides of his mouth in the process of feeding him. Right before Arya could pull away her finger from his mouth, he captured her hand with his bigger, stronger hand to steady her and with that, Gendry slowly started sucking her finger and flicking at the tip suggestively while looking at her the whole time.

Arya found herself speechless and frozen but she also didn't want to pull away from him. It felt so wet, so warm, so good that she could already feel the center of her thighs dripping with need. She bit her lip before releasing an involuntary moan at the sensation of his tongue flicking her fingertip.

"Gendry…" Came her soft whimper. Her control was slowly slipping away and that internal longing for him began to flood her rational thinking.


	10. Chapter 10

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 10: Kindling**

**Gendry **

It now dawned on Gendry Baratheon how this new kind of unexplainable drug called Arya Stark was slowly driving him to addiction. He could not even find it in himself to stop thinking about her from the moment he laid his eyes on her.

The gods above knew how much he wanted more from her despite the fact that he couldn't really act on his impulses right now.

But by the Seven, she was driving him crazy.

When he saw her standing by the entrance of the forge, it was already undeniable how much she was infuriatingly irresistible yet very impossible.

The thin nightgown she was wearing left very little to the imagination, and it only awakened his prurient desires as his thoughts brought him to how lovely it would be to undress her until she was left wearing nothing. He badly wanted to know what it would feel like to have her writhing and moaning in pleasure underneath his body as he was pounding inside of her tight, wet cunt.

The almost transparent fabric of her nightclothes gleamed with the silhouette of her most feminine form and he could tell that she was not wearing anything underneath. His breathing ceased that very instant and it was as if his world had stopped spinning.

Time stood still for both of them as they continued to study each other. His throat was suddenly parched, so he found the need to swallow a thick lump before breathing out the air he had been holding. With the way she looked right now, all entrancing and almighty, all Gendry wanted to do was make her scream in pleasure.

He just wanted to explore all kinds of intimacies with her.

When she walked inside the forge to sit on the wooden table, he could no longer control himself as his feet began to carry him towards her direction. Just the sight of her in her barely-there dress and sultry unruly hair was enough to make him grow harder every second. His cock was already tenting underneath his breeches and he hoped to the Seven that Arya hadn't noticed how affected his turgid cock was by her enthralling presence.

But when he saw her bite her lip after noticing his growing hardness, Gendry could no longer help but tease her even more.

So, he found himself eating the bread from her fingers one moment and the next minute he was already enjoying sucking her finger, sending a direct message to her that he wanted her so badly.

He heard her give a subtle moan, but it was when his name came out from her most heavenly lips that he'd finally lost it. He pulled her hand away and in the next moment, all he could remember was Arya capturing his face with her soft little hands, shifting forward to grasp all of him to her.

Her mouth was finally on his, devouring him hungrily with her eyes closed fervently. There was nothing gentle about being pulled down to meet her kiss from where he was standing tall before her. Their lips met with unrelenting force, each of them unyielding, striving for dominance until he finally gave in when he heard her moaning under his lips. Her tongue was dancing triumphantly inside his mouth as he allowed her to drink her fill of him.

Gendry found himself grasping the back of her neck with one hand, never wanting to pull away from their impassioned kiss while his other hand was slowly sliding up one side of her thigh, hiking up the skirts of her nightclothes and feeling the softness of her porcelain skin. His touch made her spread her legs instinctively to accommodate more of him and when his hand reached one side of her plump, naked butt, he wasn't surprised that she was lacking her smallclothes.

It was too glorious to stop so he continued to caress her carefully, soiling her skin with the soot from his rough hands. Arya didn't seem to mind getting herself grimy because she continued to kiss him relentlessly.

On the contrary, Arya's hands desperately clutched his shoulder until they trailed down his sweaty chest. The way she was touching him told him how much she loved having his filthy blacksmith hands smudging her clothes and her body. He could feel her fingers clawing at the muscles on his bare chest, obviously trying to savor every inch of him, perhaps at the new discovery of this burst of raw emotion building from within.

He loved this wild side of Arya. All-consuming, fiery and brazen.

It was amazing how much power she had over him to make him so helplessly consumed by her. He was at her mercy and disposal, and it didn't bother him one bit that a crown prince like him was under the spell of this small woman.

She had bewitched him entirely and he was all hers for her pleasure.

He never regretted changing his mind at the last minute to bail out his father's hunting party in favor of burning the midnight oil in the forge to finish another masterpiece he was making.

As she slightly pulled away from the intensity of their kiss for some air, he didn't waste his time in taking pleasure at sucking, biting and licking the pulse points on her sensitive neck, making her moan breathlessly again at the feel of his lips and growing stubble tickling her. He was sure to leave traces of his small bites on her beautiful neck.

"Gods, you're so fucking delicious, I could eat you forever." Gendry whispered in between savoring the scent from her neck. Then his lips travelled to her ear so that he could add, "Do you want that, love? Do you want me to devour you?"

He could feel her shivering from his hot breath on her ear.

"I could fuck you forever and still never grow tired of doing it. You don't know how much I badly want to feel you from the inside and fuck you so raw and so hard right now, you'd barely be able to walk. And I promise you that I'm going to make you come so fucking hard."

"Oh, please…" She pleaded, desperation evident in her tone as she was breathing hard. "Please… I want you so bad, Gendry. Now, please. I don't fucking care who'll see us. I just want you inside me right now…"

He kept his lips on her ear as he breathed her in while she continued to latch onto his shoulders, drawing him closer to her so that he could grind his erection on her.

"Do you want me to desecrate you, Arya?" He whispered, his fingers grasping the side of her delicious ass. He was on the verge of pushing her back on the table so that he could fuck all her tight holes.

_Holy gods_. He cursed at where his imagination had led him. He could no longer wait to do all those filthy things to her and make her feel so good.

She moaned again, grinding herself back on his turgid cock. "Defile me, corrupt me, penetrate me in any means possible. Make me come so fucking hard. I just crave you so bad. There's nothing more I want than your cock finally pushing so deep inside me, making me so full." She whispered back, capturing his lips once more, her tongue pushing inside his lips to have another taste of him.

They resurfaced for air again after a few more seconds of their messy kiss.

"Just this once, before you go back to King's Landing, please make me feel how good it is to come… Please…" He heard her say in her softest voice.

He took this moment to look at her and read the expression on her face and all he could see was her grey eyes darkening with pure lust for him. Her lips were beautifully swollen and parted and her cheeks were flushed with the most beautiful tinge of pink.

Inching his way back closer to her for another dose of their intense kiss, he closed his eyes as he caught the warmth of her sweet breath. And just when his lips were finally about to get in contact with hers once again, he heard heavy footsteps heading to the direction of the forge.

He made a mental curse as he reluctantly pulled away from his betrothed.

Arya, on the other hand, stood up abruptly to fix herself and her rumpled clothes, making sure to cover her indecency with the coat she was wearing, before training her eyes to where the sound was coming from.

They were met with the familiar face of Ser Arys.

"Your Grace. My Lady." He greeted them in his usual stolid demeanor.

Whether the Kingsguard noticed their state of disarray was already beyond Gendry.

When he spoke his next words, they were with haste as he informed, "The King and the rest of the hunting party just arrived, and he demands a council meeting immediately at Lord Stark's solar. Your presence is highly needed, Your Grace."

There was tinge of worry in his tone and Gendry knew right that instant that something was wrong. He already knew all his Kingsguards too well to miss anything from their facial expressions.

Gendry need not ask what it was for Ser Arys immediately filled in the gaps.

"There was an ambush during the King's hunting party, Your Grace. Almost a dozen of your father's men was injured while two were killed." Ser Arys explained.

He heard Arya gasp.

He also noted how the Kingsguard was eyeing Arya with concern, and it was then that Gendry noticed that she was just standing almost right behind him as if to hide herself.

And how could she show herself in her current state when she all but looked like she was just thoroughly fucked senseless inside the forge?

There were soot marks and love bites from where his hands and lips roamed all over her exposed neck. At least it was a consolation that she let her hair down so that it could cover the rest of it.

But gods, she was still the most beautiful even in her disheveled state.

"Were they ambushed by the Dreadfort men?" Arya finally spoke, her solemn voice bringing him back to reality.

"Yes, my lady." Was the Kingsguard's curt response.

"Fuck! I knew they'd be out for blood." Gendry heard Arya hiss.

He faced her, looking at her intently. Then as if by instinct, he cupped one side of her cheek, his hand reaching the back of her neck.

"I'll tell you the minutes of our council meeting later, Arya. For now, I just need to get to your father's solar. Go back to your chambers, take a rest, and keep yourself safe. I know you can take care of yourself, but I'll have Ser Arys accompany you to your chambers. Winterfell may not be safe yet until we are sure that everything else has been cleared. Just have Nymeria with you at all times." He told her worriedly.

Arya gave him an unfaltering stare as she nodded.

Then Ser Arys made a regretful interjection, "I am sorry to interrupt, Your Grace. But while I'll accompany the Lady Arya to her chambers, I'll also have Ser Barristan escort you to the solar. He's already waiting outside the forge."

Gendry raised an eyebrow, "And why I do need to be escorted right now, Ser Arys? You know for a fact that I never had any Kingsguard following me around."

"The King's orders, Your Grace. The ambush led by the Dreadfort earlier was, after all, targeted at you because they thought that you were with the hunting party. So, the King found a need to have at least one Kingsguard accompany you right now." Ser Arys explained.

He looked at Arya and found her giving him a look he'd never seen before. She was worried about him. He could see it through her eyes.

Releasing a sigh of defeat, he finally said, "Fine. I understand."

Before he pulled away from Arya, he planted a soft, chaste kiss on her forehead –a contrast to the debauchery they were about to do earlier had Ser Arys not interrupted them.

She blinked back in surprise and he could see her cheeks turning crimson at his sudden action.

He used her inarticulate state to tell her, "I'll see you later, love."

She still held a befuddled look when she said, "Yeah, later, Gendry," before finally pulling away from his hold.

She headed out of the forge first while he took a few minutes to gather all his personal tools from the worktable.

He then finally resigned to his fate as soon as he went out, meeting his other trusted Kingsguard, "Alright, Ser Barristan, let's head to the council meeting and get this other with."

**Arya **

The rays of the rising sun had just beamed through the windows the moment Arya and Ser Arys stepped foot inside the castle.

The Kingsguard did a thorough inspection of every nook and cranny inside her chambers to make sure that no intruder was hiding and waiting to take her away.

Arya then gave him a warm thank-you before he advised her that he'd just be guarding her door while waiting for her direwolf to come back from her hunt. Resigning to his suggestion, she nodded and locked her door closed.

She initially contemplated having one of their maids prepare a warm bath for her, but she finally decided against it when she saw her reflection on the looking glass.

She was stunned by what she saw.

Some parts of her nightclothes were stained with soot from Gendry's rough blacksmith hands and upon closer inspection, her neck was also filthy with a bit of grime and love marks from where Gendry's lips, teeth and tongue were ravaging her. She bit her lip at the sudden surge of the memories that happened in the forge.

The raw passion was already undeniable between them.

It was all-consuming.

And she even begged for him to fuck her while they were both lost in the moment of their carnal frenzy. She practically told him to defile her right inside the warmth of the forge.

Fuck. She could no longer take back those words because her desire for him was already out in the open.

Arya did not even feel a sense of remorse for asking him to besmirch her. She would have gladly given her whole self for him to fuck and use for his pleasure.

Looking at herself back in the mirror, she slowly lifted her hands as if in a trance as she gently removed all the articles of clothing from her body, leaving her bare-naked right before the looking glass. And there she saw more of the salacious, yet beautiful filth brought about by Gendry's hand when he grazed it along the side of her thigh.

It sent a shot of need all throughout her body, particularly in the center of her thighs. Her eyes scanned for the basin filled with clean water on her wooden dresser, then she carefully placed her left hand on the water to wash off any dirt from her fingers and after swallowing the lump of her throat, she slowly and carefully trailed her fingers from her belly down to the slit between her thighs and found herself very, very wet. It was so slick that she could feel her center dripping. Was this really the effect she would get every time Gendry would do those things to her?

It felt so filthy and heavenly at the same time. It was when she had felt his lips and his hands earlier that her resolve to be defiled by him before their marriage grew stronger.

She took a huge amount of air to steady her raging impulses before she circled her fingers along the spot where her need was the greatest. It felt so good that she felt herself eliciting a soft moan. She closed her eyes temporarily as she continued doing those strokes. There was definitely something building internally but she still could not bring herself to achieve that certain climax she'd been wanting to feel.

Before she could lose herself in the process, thoughts about the ambush this morning just put a damper on her arousal as she remembered that Gendry's life was in terrible danger. Had he been with the hunting party that dawn, he might have already been part of the casualty.

She finally opened her eyes and pulled her fingers away from her center of need.

That motherfucking Bolton bastard. She was so going to fucking kill him for threatening her Gendry's life, and then kill him again for having the audacity to challenge the stronghold of the North. She suddenly wondered if there was another powerful house in the Seven Kingdoms backing them up.

It was just infuriating how when she thought that she'd finally accepted her fate of becoming Gendry's wife, this potential war had to happen. All because that Bolton bastard wanted her.

She was never going to let that happen, she promised herself. And now that she and Gendry had already gotten so close, she could no longer imagine a life without him with it. So, essentially, she was going to do all that she could to protect him at all costs during their last few days here in Winterfell.

She only hoped that the Kingsguards were alert enough to protect their prince when they would head back to King's Landing. Not that she didn't trust them to do their duty, but she knew how dirty Ramsey Bolton played.

A few seconds more had passed before her arousal was completely obliterated.

She could try to do this some other time. Right now, she just needed to heed Gendry's word and take a rest while waiting for Nymeria.

Grabbing a clean washcloth from her dresser, she dipped it in the basin and slowly wiped the remnants of their secret intimacies from her body.

Not long after, she was already dressed in fresh new nightclothes and lying under the comforts of her blankets.

And for the first time after a few days, she finally found the rest she badly needed.

It might have been the middle of the afternoon already when she woke up from her sleep. Then realizing that someone was missing inside her chambers, she finally rose up to scan her room for her direwolf and remembered that Nymeria had been out hunting in the godswood this morning.

She hastily got up from her bed so that she could open her door and see if her wolf was already waiting outside. But right when she was about to unlock her door, she caught a glimpse of something that obviously did not belong to the floor.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she walked towards where it was. It turned out that it was a folded piece of parchment sealed with a red wax.

Carefully picking it up, she noticed that seal was that of a bull's head. She finally broke the seal and opened the letter:

_ A,_

_Meet me at the library right after our supper in the Great Hall. _

_ Yours for always, _

_ G_

It was no doubt that the letter came from Gendry. Because who else would use the seal of the bull than no other than _The Bull_ himself?

He used to tell her that he prided in that moniker, and that he'd considered himself more of a bull than a stag.

Her fingers traced all over his handwriting and found herself amazed at how neat and legible they came out to be. The manner in which the letter was written and delivered told her more about what Prince Gendry Baratheon was really like.

Simple. No nonsense. Straightforward. Authoritative.

_Alluring_… _Attractive_ and… _breathtaking_.

She felt the butterflies fluttering inside her stomach as the incident this morning swirled in her thoughts, the phantom sensation of his hands, lips, teeth, and tongue making her insides squirm with unbridled pleasure.

_Fuck, not again._ She internally swore.

Her heart quickened, her breathing growing uneven.

She could hear herself moaning all over the forge again as she ground herself on his turgid cock –moaning and begging for him to take her, no questions asked.

Gendry Baratheon was such a complete headfuck. He was fucking with her head again and now, she couldn't even stop thinking about him.

He was driving her so fucking crazy.

"Fucking shi—" She was cut off when she heard a thud from her door followed by a familiar whine.

Right, Nymeria. She reminded herself as she remembered her direwolf on the other side of the door. Her wolf might have noticed her presence.

Latching herself back to the reality, she finally opened her door and let her wolf in.

Nymeria lazily padded through the hearth before she settled. It was as if she was completely satisfied from her hunt that morning.

Arya, on the other hand, carefully made her way towards her bedside table to open the drawer where she could hide Gendry's letter. She kept it inside a small, secret wooden box filled with random fripperies that had meant something to her.

She took a seat on her featherbed, suddenly lost in thought.

Later, she and Gendry would be meeting up in the library, and she wondered if seeing him for the first time after their indecent encounter in the forge would turn out to be awkward or unremarkable. She hoped for the latter because she wasn't really a confrontational person herself.

For now, she would be using the time to prepare for supper. She needed to bathe after all. She kept telling herself that it was just to comply with being squeaky clean, seeing as the last time she'd taken a bath was yesterday morning, but deep down, she wanted to at least make herself presentable in the event that what transpired inside the forge would happen again later in the library.

Arya didn't want to expect too much, however, because she knew that nothing good would come out with expectations.


	11. Chapter 11

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 11: Clashing**

**Arya**

"Gendry hasn't been able to take his eyes off you ever since you arrived, you know." Arya was startled by Sansa's sudden observation as her sister whispered in her ear.

They were all having dinner at the Great Hall that evening. Their parents and Robb were joined by the king and the prince at the dais while Arya and the rest of her siblings were seated at a nearby table.

She was minding her own plate when her sister suddenly blurted out that revelation.

It took all of her resolve not to turn her head at Gendry's direction, but she found it so difficult, especially when Sansa was pestering her to give in and meet his eyes.

When she finally gave a furtive look at his direction, she was met by his intense leering gaze. The way he was looking at her made it seem like he was slowly undressing her.

She suddenly felt so hot, her center of need throbbing at the way he was eye-fucking her.

Arya abruptly pulled away from his eye-fucking, feeling more self-conscious than ever before she faced Sansa, scoffing dismissively.

"Oh, come on. It's not as if your relationship is still a secret." Sansa rolled her eyes. "The whole of Winterfell already knows that the prince is openly courting you… Well, the entire Seven Kingdoms, actually."

Arya kept her composure, "Whatever, Sans. Besides, he can look all he wants, he has eyes, after all, and I don't care what everybody knows. I just don't give a fuck anymore, really." She muttered, feigning indifference as she drank the cup of wine that Jon had passed on to her at the start of their meal.

"You'll only look like a fool the more you deny the obvious." Sansa teased, poking the side of her ribs which made Arya jump.

An involuntary high-pitched laugh came out from her lips as her sister hit her ticklish spot, then she smirked impishly, "Who says I'm denying it?" Arya challenged.

It made Sansa squeal in delight.

"So, you do admit that you already like him? Because I swear, Arya, you both really make a very good pair, and that's coming from me who used to think that you'd end up becoming an old grumpy spinster who only ever cared about her one hundred cats."

It was Arya's turn to roll her eyes. But deep inside, she was flattered by her sister's compliment.

_Oh, if you only knew the things that we've been doing, Sans, then you'd know I more than like him. I pine for him. I crave him. _Arya said in her thoughts.

"Come on, tell me. Do you already like Gendry?" Sansa goaded.

Arya only gave her a cryptic smile as she took another sip of her wine.

"Someday, I'm going to force the truth out of you, Arya. Watch out." She jokingly told her.

Arya only shrugged, feeling unaffected. "I'm not denying nor admitting anything, Sans. Think whatever you want."

"Huh. You so bloody like him. I can read it in your face, little sister."

Arya felt the blush spreading on her cheeks, most especially upon the realization that her sister could have noticed Gendry's love marks decorated on some parts of her neck had she not let her hair down that night. She had to practice extra caution in the next few days while her betrothed's bites were still fresh on her skin.

Sansa finally stopped pestering her when Theon started talking to them animatedly about his escapades in Winter Town with her brothers.

Arya, on the other hand, had the entire conversation drowned out because she was thinking only of one thing right now. And that was Gendry's eyes on her.

Chancing another glance at him, she found him still looking dangerously at her.

She raised an eyebrow at him as if in a challenge then gave him an obvious eye roll.

What was the idiot doing staring at her like that when the rest of the people in the Great Hall could actually notice him eye-fucking her in plain sight?

Gendry gave her a surreptitious smile before diverting his attention towards Robb. Her brother was seated beside the prince and she noticed that he was telling something funny to Gendry because they were now laughing heartily.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

Half an hour had gone when she noticed Gendry calmly excusing himself.

As he passed by their table, he looked at her and gave her a secret gesture indicating that their rendezvous was about to commence at the library post-supper.

It took Arya a few minutes to pull herself out of her siblings' random conversations, and just in time for the rest of the people inside the Great Hall to get lost to the tune of the bards singing of war heroes and forgotten loves, some even engaging into small chitchats over wine and dessert.

Nymeria was faithfully accompanying her like the loyal companion that she was as Arya made her way towards the library. As if sensing that she and Gendry would be having a private conversation, her wolf decided to stay put and guard the door as she headed inside.

One thing that Arya also noticed as they approached their meeting place was the absence of any Kingsguard following the prince to the library, and that only meant one thing: It was just going to be the two of them.

Gendry was already waiting for her inside. She was met by his brooding aura, his beautiful facial features highlighted by the glowing embers of the candles.

He was slouched on a wooden chair with his arms folded across his chest.

His clothes from tonight's supper no longer looked as formal as they seemed since he had them unbuttoned to reveal his off-white tunic underneath and showing just a bit of his hairy chest, his long sleeves were also folded along his elbows. And what used to be a slick brushed up raven hair was already a disheveled mop of thick, unruly hair. Yet he still looked ruggedly handsome with the growing stubble evident on his jaw and chin.

There's nothing more she'd want right now than to jump his bones, but she's more than aware that it was not the perfect time to think of those lecherous thoughts because Gendry himself looked like he was all just down for business and nothing more.

It almost seemed like he was on-the-job as a prince holding council to his constituents.

He was honestly intimidating and for the first time since she had known him, Arya had to reluctantly admit that she felt so little in his presence.

But apart from his obvious authoritarian image, she couldn't help but notice how tired he looked. It was as if he hadn't even taken a break today following their council meeting.

She carefully paced towards him, regarding him with caution as if he was about to explode any minute. To put it together, he seemed caught up with all of his responsibilities as the prince and heir to the Seven Kingdoms.

"Your Grace." She wasn't really sure why she'd greeted him with his title, but perhaps it had something to do with his intimidating demeanor.

"My lady." He greeted back with all the formality and seriousness in his tone.

He didn't sound like her best friend at all.

As a temporary diversion to the growing awkwardness in the atmosphere, she darted her gaze towards the thick book he was reading while he was waiting for her. It wasn't really a surprise for her that he was reading a book about the history of Westeros.

"So, what news about today's council?" She had to be straightforward just so that they could this over with.

Gendry shifted slightly in his seat, his cold gaze never leaving hers. It was a contrast to how he was eyeing her at the Great Hall earlier.

"Sit." Came his stern order.

She swallowed the invisible lump on her throat as she grabbed a chair and sat across from him stiffly. This almost seemed like being called out to Maester Luwin's solar for some reprimanding after a mischief she had done again.

This time, it was Gendry doing the reprimanding and there she was, just patiently waiting for her punishment.

But then again, why does being punished by Gendry Baratheon sound so arousing?

She cleared her throat as if it could clear her wandering thoughts.

A few seconds of silence fell as Gendry was silently regarding her.

Then Arya finally mustered the courage to speak, "I don't see your Kingsguards following you around tonight." She observed, if only to start a conversation.

"Two of my Kingsguards are actually waiting somewhere near the library. But I had most of our soldiers make sure that the rest of Winterfell is safe from inside threats now. In that way, I won't be pestered by Ser Arys following me even to the privy." Came his humorless response.

Arya only nodded in understanding.

"And I completely understand how you feel about having a guard by your side all the time. I know how much it annoys you, so I had to impose my top soldiers to make sure the rest of the castle is already safe. Not just for my sake, but for yours, so that you may roam freely in your home without worrying about any threats." He added.

"I see. Well, that works." Was Arya's only response. "So, how did the council meeting go?"

"Exhausting, to be honest. It took a lot of conscientious deliberation to make sound decisions. Plus, I had to send bloody ravens to the rest of the other kingdoms in the south, starting from the Riverlands, to the Reach, then to Dorne."

"Why is that?"

Gendry gave her a sharp look, but she still almost got lost in his eyes anyway.

"To prevent the possibility of war from breaking out."

It knocked the breath out of her.

"War? Why? I thought the only enemy targeting us is the Dreadfort."

Gendry straightened in his seat, flexing his hands, and clasping them on top of the table.

It took a few seconds for her to study those large, skillful fingers –fingers that not long ago set her aflame when he touched her in all the right places.

"We have been very certain that the ambush that happened this morning was initiated by the Dreadfort," Gendry paused and released a breath he had been holding, "But then the Dreadfort denied all the allegations, so it led me to the conclusion that they're either really that thick to deny the attack, or we have some other enemies out there who are backing them up. We do not even have concrete evidences to accuse them. That's how complicated this case is."

"But it's already too obvious what that Bolton bastard wants. He wanted to intimidate you so that you would stay away from the North." Arya filled in.

"I know that. We all know that. But it is unwise to just blatantly accuse them without due process." Gendry explained.

But Arya wouldn't have it. "Due process?! Ramsey fucking Bolton wanted you fucking dead, Gendry!" She exclaimed, pointing outside the window.

"You think I don't know that?! I'm just trying to be more rational and cautious here. Because had I the choice, I would've gone to the Dreadfort myself to rob the living daylight out of that Bolton fucker with my Warhammer just so that he'd never even think about stealing you away from me again!" She was now seeing the fury from his eyes. "But I couldn't just march there and kill that bastard without due process. That's not how I operate, Arya. I don't want the rest of the kingdom to think that just because the Crown Prince was threatened by an ambush, he'd just go around killing everyone that gets in his way. No, I'm not like that.

"And imagine storming to the Dreadfort without any evidence, it would only cause more tension between the North and the crown itself. And you think the Dreadfort doesn't have any allies? What do you think would happen if I just act upon my fury and kill Ramsey Bolton? That would already be reason enough for the rest of their allies to rally against your family and the crown and cause a new war between the Seven Kingdoms. They'd use that as an excuse to raise up arms and try to usurp our family. Do you see how complicated it can get?

"This isn't only just a matter of my ego being tested by that Bolton bastard. I had to weigh things down, I had to think ten steps ahead rather than act on my base impulses. I had to think of the kingdom, and everyone else who would get involved.

"Do you know how much we are still indebted to the Iron Bank of Braavos? I've been working so hard to negotiate with them regarding our kingdom's arrangements to pay old debts… and if they hear about our riff with the Boltons, it might give Braavos an idea to make us pay our debts faster, and draining out the coffers of the crown, because I know for a fact that they would never hesitate to fund our enemies into waging war against us. That's how fucked up this is, Arya."

His rationalization shut Arya up. It was indeed a wise move not to act upon those threats without concrete evidence, because if Gendry would be brash about everything, it would only cause a bigger fissure in the already fragile relations between the Starks and the Dreadfort, and Arya was aware that the Dreadfort's allies equaled the allies of the Starks.

And there was the matter of the crown's debt to Braavos. She couldn't even begin to imagine how stressful Gendry's duty was as the Crown Prince. It's not just all about pompous vanity and the typical princely bravado, it was more than that. Being a prince involved having to use wits and wisdom to keep the kingdom from collapsing.

"So, what are you going to do about this situation, then?" Arya asked him.

Gendry met her eyes sternly. "I already have my best spies investigating on this matter. I ordered them to look for the evidences we need before I could pass the sentence to whoever tried to threaten my life that resulted to the death of some of our soldiers."

Arya was surprised, "I didn't know you have spies."

It earned a smug grin from Gendry, "Of course I have spies, Arya. I may be the main person running this kingdom, but I still have these men working in the background to make sure I get help in getting my job done efficiently."

He could already anticipate her next question, so he continued, "And yes, my father is already making me run this kingdom. He has been letting me run it for a few years now, legislating new laws and making most of the decisions, to prepare me for my eventual duty when he retires, as what he always tells me."

Arya never had any idea that Gendry had been running the whole fucking Seven Kingdoms entirely by himself. He never told her, and she never even asked him in the first place. It was an unexpected revelation for her.

She knew how big of a responsibility it was to run the kingdom, and Gendry had been doing it in the past few years.

All along she thought it was King Robert who enacted some of the new laws being implemented in the kingdom. She'd heard a few outstanding ones and was even surprised that someone like King Robert could think of something like laws for imprisoning husbands who beat their wives and children.

That had been Gendry all along.

It now made sense.

What else did she not know about him?

Then she had another question coming, "You father is planning on retiring?"

"Yes, love. So that means I'd be king even before the fat bastard dies. He's planning on passing the crown to me once he sees his grandchildren. Like he said, he's going to retire and spend his time with them." She saw him rolling his eyes at the thought.

Arya never expected King Robert to have a grand masterplan like that. And it was something she'd never heard of before –a king retiring early and passing on the crown to his son. That didn't sound like a bad idea after all.

"So, can we also do that when we're old? Retire early so that we could enjoy the rest of our lives just being normal people?" She asked him.

Gendry smiled at her endearingly, "Of course, love. If you want that, then I'd make sure we retire early from being the King and the Queen. It's a taxing job. I know you're not inclined to spend the rest of your life being queen either. So, why not?"

Arya nodded. "Let's do that, yeah? I'm not even queen yet, but I can't wait to retire already."

Then she remembered one more thing, "Wait. Grandchildren? Are you shitting me?"

"No pressure, Arya. Robert already knows I don't really plan on having children yet right after I get married. So, he still has many more years of being the bloody king to the Seven Kingdoms."

She was relieved by his assurance.

"So, that's it then? You're just going to go back to King's Landing like nothing happened?"

Gendry's expression suddenly grew serious again.

"About that… There is actually something else I need to tell you."

His somber appearance said it all.

"Why do I feel like I'm not going to like what you're about to tell me?"

"Because you really won't be liking it." Came his brusque response.

"Why? Are we to get married right away?" She started guessing.

Gendry shook his head, then he sighed, "I have imposed a resolution to our fathers, and they seem to unanimously agree to the terms I have stated without any hesitations…"

She was growing impatient the longer he was delaying it. "Oh, would you please spill it out before I forcibly gouge it out from your system?"

Gendry's stolid and piercing eyes were only directed at her, unblinking and unfaltering.

"I told them that I will be taking you back with me to King's Landing when we travel South in a few days' time. You'll be staying with me in the Red Keep and everything you need will be provided for."

Arya's eyes grew wide, whether in panic or fury she could not really tell, but it suddenly felt like the world was crashing down on her. It was like the very freedom she'd enjoyed her whole life was now being stripped away from her. She wasn't even being given the time to bid a proper farewell to her life here in Winterfell.

"Absolutely not!" Her empathic response resonated all over the walls of the library.

"But, Arya, you have to understand that I'm only doing this to protect you. And I will protect you with all my life. Your father will also be travelling with us to the capital as he will already be starting his duties as the new Hand." Gendry tried to appease her with his assurance.

But she was so fucking livid that she couldn't even see sense anymore.

"Winterfell is already an impenetrable fortress! The soldiers can protect me here, or better yet, I can protect myself. You can't really be serious about dragging me back to your place without even letting me savor the last dregs of my freedom. That's too soon for me, Gendry. I just… I can't…" She clenched her hands into tight fists to hold the growing rage deep inside her as tears formed behind her eyes, threatening to fall any second.

This could not be happening to her. She refused to be ordered around to do his bidding, even if he was the prince of Westeros.

"But I can't risk just leaving you here when I go back to the capital, knowing that somewhere out there, that bloody bastard is threatening to take you away. I've heard about Ramsey Bolton, Arya. I am aware of his brutality, and knowing how obsessed he is with you, I know he's just waiting for the right time to strike. And I can't live knowing that you're still out here in the North while I'm already back in the capital."

"So, you think you are the only solution then? Is that it?" She sputtered angrily. "And you think you can just tell them what is best for me without even consulting me first about how I'd feel? You're telling me to leave my home without saying a proper goodbye, Gendry. How dare you! Here I thought you were better. Why can't you just trust me to take care of myself? I've been training all my life how to defend myself."

Gendry breathed out a sigh, obviously expecting her to react like this.

"I do trust you, Arya. I always have. I just don't trust Ramsey Bolton to not strike and plot behind my back. I just fear for your safety knowing that I'll be a hundred miles away from you and I'm just so helpless about not being able to protect you."

"Then Ramsey can go fuck himself! I'm going to be the one to kill him if I have to, so you don't have to worry about that part! I'm going to take care of myself for you while you do your job back in King's Landing, alright? How hard can that be?!"

"You don't understand, Arya."

Arya slammed her hand on the table before she finally stood up, "No! _You_ don't understand, Gendry! I already agreed to this marriage alliance, and I'll be marrying you eventually, what more do you want?! I just need this one last bit of freedom if only to savor all that I'm about to let go once I live in the capital and become a wife. Can't you understand that? Or are you just so selfish as to discredit my choices? Because from the way I see it, you have already made the decision for me—"

Gendry punctuated her with his authoritative tone. "Arya! Listen to me!" Then his face softened as he continued, "Please, just hear me out… I never really wanted to take that choice away from you. But I just found it necessary to impose this kind of arrangement and take you with me, in that way you'll be safer under my wing."

"Please don't do this. Why are you trying to control my life? I can't just leave everything away abruptly. This process for me has to be gradual so that I may learn to let go of everything in time. Not like this. Not by stripping me of my choice. Why are you really doing this?"

Noticing Gendry trying to control his temper in front of her, she continued to face him without falter.

Never had she seen him more serious in her life.

"You want the whole truth?" He finally caved through gritted teeth. "Then, here's the truth for you, _princess_; I just don't want that fucking bastard to take you away from me because I already care about you! I fucking care, alright?" Came his unexpected retort as his honest gaze penetrated her.

She had to admit that deep down, she found his possessiveness a bit exhilarating. No other man had said those words to her with the same intensity as Gendry. She knew that he really meant it because she could feel it in his honesty.

She blinked back twice before putting her mask on again, making sure to glare daggers at him. "Well, what a revelation, then!" It didn't come as a surprise for her that her sarcasm was just a façade since she practically didn't know how to react about the fact that Gendry just confessed to her that he cared.

So, she just resorted to giving him a biting remark, "And you sound as if I'm your property. Well, just to make things clear once and for all, Baratheon, you don't own me!"

"I never said I owned you, Stark!"

"Well, you're acting like you do!"

"Because you're so fucking stubborn! I'm just giving you an easy solution by coming back with me to King's Landing, and here you are arguing about your freedom being taken away from you! I'm not robbing you off your freedom, Arya. Like I said, I just want to protect you! And I can't do that while you're here. Besides, you can practically do anything you want in King's Landing. I'm not going to stop you as long as I am there along the way. We could even do it together!"

His candor struck her in a way she'd never felt before. But her selfishness was still holding her back and she even found it necessary to rationalize that her freedom was at stake here, when in fact Gendry had already told her that she would have all the freedom to do whatever she wanted in King's Landing. But no matter how appealing his promise sounded, she just wasn't ready.

"I just need more time, Gendry." She admitted quietly, her tears already on the verge of falling.

"When it comes to your safety, that's already out of the question. Do you understand? Ramsey won't stop what he's plotting just because you needed more time."

Arya was already running out of valid arguments, so she just settled for irrational points out of her seething rage. "I'm not coming with you to King's Landing. Period. You can't force me to do your bidding just because you're the fucking prince of the Seven Kingdoms! You can't make me!"

She was already aware of her astounding defiance that not even her septa could subdue her bullheadedness, so she was so confident that this would also work on Gendry.

But she was so wrong when she only saw Gendry carefully standing up and approaching her like a predator all while giving her a scathing glare.

He finally stopped a few inches away from her. She had to look up to meet his eyes.

"You seem to be forgetting yourself, Lady Arya. I am still the Crown Prince of Westeros, so it would do you well to follow my bidding for your own sake! You may not agree to all my decisions, but you will abide by them no matter what!" He roared. "You will start packing your things first thing in the morning. I will give you time to say your goodbyes, and in three days, we will be leaving for King's Landing, whether you like it or not. Is that understood?"

Arya finally cowered at his words, but it only fueled her rage.

How dare he pull ranks on her!

He was worse than his king father when it came to his temper, that was for sure and it just proved that he was indeed more stubborn than her.

Suddenly, she was broken from her internal reverie when she heard his booming voice once more.

"Look at me!" He ordered her, completely making her startled. She felt his fingers tug at her chin, but she was surprised to find him very gentle when he did so. It was far from what she had expected.

"I will still stand by my word of keeping your secret safe so that we won't have to get married right away. All I ask of you right now is to come with me so that I can protect you from that Bolton bastard." He told her in a calmer voice.

Arya took a step back as if she were disgusted by his gesture, swatting his arm away.

"Then I have no choice but to break away from this stupid betrothal." She announced, her tears finally falling freely down her cheeks. "That's the better solution. In that way, you won't have to worry about me being taken away by Ramsey, and you'll be free to select some other lady out there who is going to do your bidding without any hesitations. Because the way I see it, the more we push through with this betrothal, the more we'll just get ourselves entangled into web after web of complications. We'll only get ourselves hurt. So, to avoid facing all the ramifications that come with this alliance, I'll just end this here, once and for all."

It took a few seconds for Gendry to grasp what she was telling him.

"So, just because this is an inconvenience to you, you're just giving it all up? And here I thought you'd do better than just be a fucking quitter." He sounded so defeated and heartbroken that it slowly shattered her heart as well.

A fresh wave of tears clouded her eyes. "It doesn't matter anymore. Call me a coward all you want, I don't care! It's not going to lead us anywhere, anyway. There's no point keeping this relationship if I can't even make my own decisions. So, it's better that we just end whatever this is that we have!" She wailed, the tension escalating once more.

"What about us, Arya? Does that not mean anything to you? What about the bond that we already shared? What about the things you sputtered about choosing to marry me and the bullshit you said about already signing a binding contract?!" Gendry equaled her thundering voice.

"Then you can shove that contract up your ass! I don't fucking care anymore!"

Gendry shook his head, she could see from his face that he was also in denial, "You're not making sense right now because you're just upset. You shouldn't make decisions when you're angry!"

"I said I don't care!" She was now sobbing uncontrollably.

Gendry made to reach out for her to wipe her tears away, but Arya took another step backwards.

"Don't touch me! It's over, Gendry!"

Gendry only gave her one last broken look before he resigned to saying, "As you wish, my lady." He bowed slightly as a form of curtsy and made his way towards the door.

When he opened the door, Nymeria came inside and silently padded towards her. Gendry gave her one last tormented look before finally shutting the door, leaving her to her thoughts.

She contemplated going after him and taking back all the things she said about ending their betrothal, but eventually decided against it. It took a few more seconds for her to lean her back on the door before she slowly slid down to the floor to allow herself to break down, her sobs resonating all over the library.

**Gendry **

As soon as the door to the library shut behind him, he leaned his back to it and closed his eyes. He heaved a deep sigh to release all the anger and tension that had built up in the last hour.

As he partially slid on the door, he heard Arya's unmistakable sobs on the other side.

His jaw clenched upon hearing her cries. He ran his hands across his face then raked his already unkempt hair frustratingly. After hearing what seemed like an endless weeping, he covered his ears with both hands. He couldn't bear hearing her sobbing like that.

It broke his heart over and over having to hear her cry so hard and he couldn't even give her the comfort she needed because he was the very reason why she was crying in the first place.

He might have felt sorry for imposing authority on her, but he still stood by his decision. It was the only feasible way he could think of to make sure that she was safe at all times because by the gods, she was more important than his life right now.

In fact, he was more than willing to risk his life for her.

That was how much Arya Stark already meant to Gendry.

He'd never cared for anyone else the way he cared about Arya.

But right now, they were broken up. She just broke away from their betrothal and it was the most excruciating feeling ever.

He'd never felt anything like this before. He was hurting the same way that she was.

Finally opening his eyes, he felt a tear slide down his face, then another.

The next thing he knew, he was already burying his head with his palms as he released all his pent-up emotions.

How did this day turn to a be complete mess when just this morning they were still sharing a passionate moment inside the forge?

He was so affected by her breaking up with him that he couldn't help but cry silently. He could no longer recall the last time he ever shed tears for someone, but he didn't really care about that right now.

He also didn't care if people thought he looked so weak crying over a woman that just broke his heart. The absence of tears were never a measure of masculinity and strength for him, anyway. And Arya was worth all the tears he was shedding because for the first time in his life, he already found a reason for living.

She was everything to him and he feared for what that fucking Bolton bastard might do to her.

His emotions switched to that of fury at the thought of Ramsey fucking Bolton. He was going to fucking kill him the moment they could get verified evidence that it was indeed that motherfucker who ordered the ambush that would have endangered his life had he gone with the hunting party.

He knew that Ramsey was beyond cruel when he had his spies look into his background the moment that Bolton bastard made his intention of vying for Arya's affections clear as day. Being the strategist that he was, he had to know what the competition was like.

And it turned out that what he discovered was beyond unspeakable. According to his spies, Ramsey Bolton did inhumane atrocities that were only done by a person that didn't have a conscience, and as prince of the Seven Kingdoms, he vowed to end them once and for all.

Gendry allowed a few more minutes to succumb to his emotions before he finally opened his eyes.

He could also hear Arya's sobbing slowly subside as her breathing evened out. Nymeria must have stayed by her side all throughout her breakdown because he could hear her speaking to her direwolf.

"Everything will be alright, Nymeria." Came her half-whisper.

He even heard Nymeria give her mistress a sympathetic whimper.

"You're all I have right now. We're both in this together. Just you and me. My prince is going back to his place in the South, and I won't be coming with him." She whispered again.

She just called him _her prince_.

Her words hit him right through his heart, and he realized that he couldn't bear her sadness. All he wanted to do was make her happy and let her be free. But she got his intentions all misunderstood.

Releasing a heavy breath, he willed himself to stand up.

Just a corridor away from the library were his two Kingsguards, standing still while waiting for him. He actually had them stand at the ready from afar the entire time he was inside the library and having that conversation with Arya.

Nodding to his loyal guards, he ordered, "I'm heading back to my chambers by myself. Please wait for Lady Arya outside the library. Make sure you keep her safe, but still keep your distance. Alert me if anything untoward happens that would compromise her safety."

Ser Arys and Ser Barristan nodded at his orders and motioned towards the hall that led to the library.

As soon as Gendry got inside, he locked his door and removed his boots and tunic so that he was now half-naked under the candlelight. He then threw himself on the featherbed.

He hadn't realized how dead tired he was until he finally felt the comforts of the bed.

When he closed his eyes shut, he drifted into a long, dreamless sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Follow me in Tumblr: TheHumanEntrailsAndTheMind**

**Chapter 12: Bargaining**

**Gendry**

"You look like shit, son." Came his father's remark as Gendry entered Lord Stark's solar the following morning.

He was already running late but he didn't really give a fuck. He actually did not feel like joining the council meeting at all.

His father, Robb and Lord Stark were already inside, waiting for him.

Gendry only scoffed and rolled his eyes before he took his seat next to his father.

"What happened, lad? Got off the wrong side of the bed this morning?" His father jested, clapping his back playfully.

"Piss off." Gendry spat bitterly.

King Robert only boomed in boisterous laughter as it was normal for his father to take off his serious mask as king and just be that regular father who oftentimes made jokes with his son. If Gendry had to be honest, it was one of the qualities he liked most about him, the ability to lighten up amid their political and economic issues.

It reminded him that life did not have to be serious all the time, that he also needed to breathe and let loose in order to allow more room for hope in each passing day of his training to becoming the future ruler of the entire kingdom. And his father definitely saw that self-induced pressure Gendry was putting on himself just because he did not want to fuck things up as the crown prince and heir.

But at that moment, no amount of those regular Robert jokes could appease the pain he was feeling in his chest. Being heartbroken was far worse than any physical pain.

This ache was impalpable.

Robb and Lord Stark, on the other hand, held amused faces as they noticed the unroyal interaction between father and son.

Gendry groaned as he buried his surly face in his palms, feeling the beginnings of a headache after his short-lived slumber. "Fuck." He cursed, slouching on his seat.

Looking like shit was an understatement. He was the epitome of devastation.

Although he'd gone to a deep sleep last night, it only ever lasted for a few hours, and just as soon as his mind was awake enough to recall the events of last night in the library, his heart broke into tiny little pieces all over again. He was like a sulking maiden crying over a lost lover. He had been bawling his heart out as he lied awake on his featherbed from dawn till sunrise.

Arya had broken his heart and he could not stop himself from hurting.

Now, he must have looked like a complete joke walking around Winterfell with huge puffy eyes, scruffy hair, and an unshaven beard.

Even Ser Arys, who met with him outside his bedchambers, did all his best to hold his tongue from making any unwelcome comments, but Gendry knew that his Kingsguard had a lot to say in his mind. He only ever gave the prince a knowing smile.

"What's with your shit mood this morning, Gendry?" His father had to ask him before their council started.

He would have wanted to keep them in the dark regarding Arya breaking up with him, but their marriage alliance still held some semblance of high importance to the entire kingdom politically. So, it was his duty to tell them what had transpired.

"Arya broke off our betrothal." He revealed, releasing a deep, devastated sigh, and refusing to meet their eyes.

"What?!" His king father exclaimed.

"You heard me." Gendry grit his teeth in sardonic retort.

"What happened, lad?" It was Lord Stark who asked.

"We had a talk last night. I told her of my plan to take her with me to King's Landing. Naturally, she didn't deem my decision agreeable, so she defied me. We had an argument about that, but she decided to just end things between us." He painfully explained.

"So, you're just going to give up like that, then?" Robert had to ask him.

He sighed again.

"I don't want to force her into doing something she doesn't want to do, father. It was clear enough that she never really agreed to this alliance in the first place. This betrothal should have never been imposed on us. It's not right, and I'm just taking away her freedom the more we accept this arrangement."

"Arya tends to make brash decisions when she's mad, Gendry." Lord Stark informed him matter-of-factly. "But she never really follows through with those decisions once her temper has died down."

"Aye. I agree to that. I've known her my whole life. She's indeed got a temper, my sister." Robb acquiesced.

Gendry shook his head. "It was wrong to strip her off her volition of making her own decisions. I never should have imposed on her."

"You can still win her back, though." His father said. "The way I see it, you both share an immutable bond that I've never ever seen with anyone else. And I'm not only telling you this because you are engaged. I sense a certain understanding between the two of you. I've never seen you so happy, son. I only ever saw it when you're with her. It's as if you've really found a best friend in her. And your friendship with her is something deeply different than your friendship with Ser Brienne, or your baker friend who makes the most unbelievably delicious pies. You can't lose her now, Gendry."

Gendry finally faced his father, his eyes wide in outrage. "That's the thing, father. I just lost her!" His voice rang across the stone walls of the solar. "No amount of treaties, orders nor pleading can bring her back to me, do you understand that? I already lost her!"

He fought back the tears from falling as he breathed hard to control his growing fury.

"Oh, boy. You've really got it bad." Was his father's only statement as he read his face. It wasn't even a question. Even his father could see right through him and he hated how transparent he was in this fragile situation.

Gendry pulled away from his gaze. "It doesn't fucking matter, so stop putting ideas into my head."

A bout of silence passed between them and the only sound Gendry could hear was his own harsh breathing.

Then his father spoke again, "So, you're just going to let her go once we return to the capital, is that it?"

He felt his agitation rising again. "It's not like I could just tie her up and drag her back with me to King's Landing, 'innit? I have no choice but to let her go. It's the only way for her to be free. That would be the fair thing to do."

"But the future of this kingdom depends on the both of you, Gendry. Don't you see that? You'll both be ruling the Seven Kingdoms side by side, as just rulers –as the king and queen. You'll be the ones who will pave the way for actualizing change in this world—"

King Robert was interrupted when Gendry finally burst into a fit of inconsolable wrath.

"How cruel a thing would that be if I'm just going to force her to be my queen?! I'd rather rule this kingdom by myself without a wife, without a queen by my side, if it means seeing her happy with her freedom! And I don't fucking care if I won't be fathering heirs who will one day be taking over me! I'll find a way to ensure that someone will still run this goddamned kingdom after I'm gone, but I'm never going to force anyone to be with me just because it's written in some bullshit contract!" He bellowed, standing up and toppling the wooden chair he'd been sitting on as he slammed his hands on the table.

His words left all of them speechless.

Before they could say anything more, he cleared his throat and composed himself. "Pardon my sudden outburst. But I find that I don't have the sound mind to join the council today. If you would all excuse me." He bowed to Lord Stark and Robb, then he turned to his father.

"Just ask Ser Barristan to deliver me the parchment outlining the transcript of today's meeting, and I'll be sure to review them and make some revisions if necessary. I'll just be in my chambers to take some rest. Your Grace, My Lords."

Without another word, he left them all bewildered by his sudden frenzy.

He stopped by the kitchens to request one of the kitchen maids for a whole bottle of the strongest wine they could find before he made his way to his bedchambers with the intent of drowning all his sorrows through mindless inebriation. In that way, it would allow him to feel numb while the pain was still so fresh in his heart.

He discarded his tunic and boots and was just down to his breeches as he sat on the bed, taking a direct swig of the wine from the bottle.

He didn't bloody care if he would be well in his cups in the middle of the day. At least the onset of his intoxication would be felt earlier, therefore allowing the numbness to take over his consciousness like a veil for the entire day.

It was not long after he was already halfway through his bottle that a knock was heard on the door.

He grunted in annoyance when another series of knocks threatened to destroy his eardrums.

"Go away! I'm currently indisposed!" He shouted from his bed, feeling the slight slur of his words as he nursed his wine bottle to his chest.

A familiar voice was heard on the other side of the door.

"It's just us, mate. Let us in. We come bearing _gifts_." It was Robb's voice.

When he heard the word gifts, Gendry was not sure what Robb meant by it.

Gendry was not even expecting him at all. He thought he was being asked to join the council meeting despite his inability to function as the prince.

"Who's with you?" Gendry had to ask. Because if he brought Arya with him so that they could resolve their conflict, he was not sure if he would be ready to face her.

"Jon's with me, mate," Came Robb's response.

"Aye." He heard Jon's confirmation. "So, open the bloody door, Baratheon."

Since it would usually take Gendry a huge intake of wine to get himself piss-drunk unlike his father, he was still able to stand up to meet Robb and Jon at the door.

"What do you want?" Gendry asked grumpily as he unlocked his door to open it for them.

With the way that Robb and Jon sniggered at the sight of him, he must have looked so horrible in his rugged half-naked state, nursing his wine bottle, and wearing a face that could easily pass as a brawny pirate.

"Already starting this drinking fest without us, mate? But we brought more for all of us." Robb winked, showing him the bottles of wine and cups that they were each holding in their hands.

Gendry was left dumbfounded at the sight of Arya's brothers casually barging into his chambers without waiting for his permission to let them in, much less share a drink with him at this time of the day.

He stupidly moved his overgrown self to the side to let them pass, following after them as soon as he locked his door.

"Seven Hells. You look utterly fucked, Baratheon." Robb remarked, taking a seat on the chair situated near the windows and setting the bottles on the table.

He felt Jon's eyes carefully studying him before he broke into a fit of boyish laughter.

"Our little sister did this, Robb? It was Arya who made him look like shit?" Came Jon's mocking comment.

Robb only laughed and nodded his head to confirm.

The comment didn't bother Gendry in the least because Arya's brothers were right in that aspect. He indeed looked like utter shit because of her, however, he still felt himself blush, the tips of his ears heating up at the sight of Arya's brothers laughing at him.

"Shut up, you lot." Gendry made a surly grumble as he took a seat right across from Robb, putting his half-drunken bottle of wine on the table.

Jon, on the other hand, spread the curtains wide open to let the morning light penetrate through the glass windows which earned a hard wince from Gendry as he felt the blinding brightness assault his eyesight.

"Seven Hells." He cussed, squinting to adjust his vision.

He'd been so lost wallowing in his sorrows in the past hour that he didn't really mind having his bedchambers immersed under the cover of darkness.

"That's better." Jon spoke to no one in particular before he finally claimed a spot on the ledge. He then used his current position to open the windows to let some fresh air circulate around Gendry's then-enclosed chambers.

"Why are you really here, mates?" Gendry found the need to ask, crossing his arms as he lumbered unceremoniously on his seat, not giving a damn that his naked chest was still bare for them to see.

Robb and Jon shared a look before they both gave him a wide smile.

"Why, of course we're here to stage an intervention for our poor, old good-brother." Robb told him. He handed Gendry a cup that he filled with wine from the bottles that they brought along.

Gendry scoffed but nevertheless welcomed the cup that Robb handed over to him.

"You heard me in your father's solar earlier. There's not going to be a fucking wedding because your sister broke up with me." He told them bitterly before drinking from his cup, finishing all its contents in just one drink.

"Is it really that worse, mate?" Robb asked him.

Gendry shrugged as he slid back the cup on the table for Robb to refill. "I really do not know. There was some sort of finality in her words, mate. Besides, she had always been opposed to this marriage alliance even before we'd gotten close."

"That we're all aware of. She was enraged the moment she was told that she was to be married off. She practically threw a fit and escaped Winterfell for a few hours." Jon stated. "But I had a word with her after Ramsey Bolton had the audacity to storm Winterfell to ask for her hand while we were out hunting. I was checking up on her, asking her how she really felt about being betrothed to you, and she told me she'd rather choose to be with you than with anyone else.

"She's happy with you, mate. I never saw my sister like that with anyone else, like she doesn't need to be someone else whenever she's with you because you allow her to be herself. What's even rarer is for Arya to show affection towards someone else, and she only does that when she's with you." Jon explained seriously, taking a swig of the cup that Robb handed over to him.

"Surely, you'd be fucking blind if you don't see how much she likes you, Gendry. She might be made of steel and stone, but deep inside, her heart's just like a secret garden with high, fortified walls that she'd managed to let down just so that she can share a piece of her true self with you." Jon added with sincerity in his tone.

It left Gendry speechless for a few seconds as he never realized how perceptive Arya's favorite brother was.

But that feeling of foreboding clouded Gendry's heart despite the evident honesty in Jon's eyes as scenes from last night kept occupying his thoughts. Because with the way that Arya broke up with him last night, he deemed their situation hopeless.

Gendry released a painful, defeated sigh, "That's the thing, I don't want to push her any more than I already did the other night. She looked so devastated when I told her that I'd be taking her with me, and it broke me seeing her get hurt like that. In my defense, I was well aware that it was unfair of me, but I just had that strong need to protect her, and I can't do that while I'm back working my ass off in the capital while she's here."

"We understand your concern, Gendry. We know you already care for our sister." Jon told him, "But my guess is that Arya might have already told you that she is more than capable of taking care of herself, so I won't be reiterating that. What I'd like you to know is that, we're also here to protect our sister, like what we have always been doing when she was little." He reassured him. "All her brothers are here to protect her, even the younger ones, and hell, even Theon, because he also loves Arya like his little sister."

Gendry gave them a sincere smile. "Thank you, Jon, Robb. I apologize if I worry too much, that sometimes I forget that I'm not alone in fighting to protect my best friend who is also the woman I'm about to marry. I've grown to care so much for your sister, you know. Well, I only have a small circle of friends, and I tend to be overprotective of them, that's just how I am. I tend to overthink, which makes me worry too much about the people who matter to me the most."

Robb snickered. "Your father actually told us about that. He said that you worry about this kingdom more than him, considering that he's still the king. But he actually admires your ability to be empathetic because he knows that the kingdom will be in good hands when you'll be king someday. He said it's one of your best traits."

Gendry blinked his eyes in disbelief. "Really? My father said that about me?"

"You don't seem to believe what he thinks of you." Jon noted, piqued by Gendry's incredulity.

"Because he never says those things to my face. Well, I think it's better that he doesn't tell me those things. Although we may oftentimes bond over random drinking sessions, engaging in heart-to-heart conversations with him is still too awkward for me, so I never really know his thoughts about how I run his kingdom."

"Maybe he doesn't need to tell you those things because you're already doing good at running the affairs of this kingdom." Robb said. "Your father's really proud of you, you know. He'd sometimes share what he thinks about your leadership whenever we wait for you to arrive during council meetings."

Gendry's heart suddenly felt so full upon hearing his father's remarks through Robb. He'd never expected his father to be so proud of him like that.

A thankful smile spread on his lips, feeling a sense of comfort in knowing that someone still believed in him despite the heaviness of his heart right now.

"We hope you'll work it out with Arya though, mate. You're our best bet for our little sister, you know." Came Robb's hopeful statement, breaking the silence.

Gendry noticed Jon snorting. "Oh, please. Make up your mind, Robb. You also used to tell that to poor Ned when he was visiting here."

Robb broke into gales of laughter while Gendry could not help but raise an eyebrow. He could have sworn it wasn't the first time he'd heard that name because he recalled Arya mention that name to him before.

"Who the fuck is Ned?" He had to ask, albeit in a condescending tone, if only to satiate his growing curiosity.

"Lord Edric Dayne, the lord of Starfall. Well, he just became the lord of Starfall last year. Ned was one of Arya's first male friends, his family used to visit Winterfell mostly in the summers." Jon explained, smirking.

Gendry suddenly could not understand what he was feeling. But one thing was for sure –he certainly knew that he already didn't like Lord Edric fucking Dayne.

And Starfall? What fancy fucking place was that? He'd never heard of Starfall at all. Or maybe he wasn't really that attentive during his lessons with his maester about all the other minor houses of Westeros. They were just too many and it hurt his head thinking about memorizing them all. He was always good at numbers, but not with history.

"Did he court Arya or something?" Gendry asked again, doing his best to control his impulse of wanting to summon that lord and punch him in the face.

Robb and Jon cackled at his sudden jealousy before Jon replied, "Arya didn't let him, mate. Don't worry about that. She only sees him as a friend."

Jon's reassurance was like a temporary soothing balm to his irrational jealousy, but he was a sadistic bastard adding salt to his figurative injuries.

"Arya didn't let him, but he would have wanted to if he was given the chance, wouldn't he?" He stated, his fury fueled by the growing amount of alcohol in his system as they continued to drown themselves in the abundance of wine inside Gendry's chambers.

"Calm down, Baratheon. Ned's harmless. He doesn't have bad intentions over Arya.

Although I may have overhead that he was trying to seek out a betrothal with her, Arya still outright declined his proposal because she only regards him as her close male friend, and that's all there is to their relationship." Jon appeased. "As far as I know, Arya's never really been interested in other males apart from you."

"Which is really surprising," Robb added, then looked at Gendry, "No offense, mate, I know you're a pretty lad and all, but I've always thought that Arya would end up being an old maid because she was always opposed to the idea of marriage, or romantic relationships in general."

A sense of pride coupled with relief washed over Gendry's thoughts, because it meant that among Arya's male friends who weren't her brothers, it was him she wanted.

It was with him that she'd shared her first kiss with. Gods, she even wanted him to be the one to take her maidenhead.

She was badly pining for him the same way he was lusting after her.

But the bitter reality dangled before his thoughts like a constant reminder that Arya still broke up with him last night.

Their betrothal was over, and he'd be coming back to King's Landing with a broken heart instead of the promise of a binding marriage contract.

He suddenly began to wonder how soon he would be able to get over her. Of if he would be able to get over her at all.

Perhaps he would seek out the carnal comforts from one of his constant liaisons who came from Essos and ask her to visit and stay in King's Landing for awhile just to help him move on. He'd even let her pick another woman for both of them to fuck and enjoy. Anyway, that's what he'd been doing with her in the previous years, engaging in casual polygamous hookups. He used to seek her out every now and then, and then she would choose another nubile woman to join them and the three of them would be on a fucking frenzy for days.

But now that he had gotten to know someone like Arya Stark, he completely lost his appetites for the flesh with other women. Because he only wanted to share the passion of lovemaking with her, and no one else.

She had him completely ensnared by the bewitching rarity of her character that his heart made a promise of beating only for her. Therefore, seeking out those comforts from other women would no longer work for him. He was no longer craving other women because he only craved the attention of Arya Stark right now.

He would never be able to get over her then, he concluded. She would always come to haunt his thoughts even after they would part ways.

His train of thoughts were broken when he suddenly heard the snapping of fingers.

"Oi! You still with us, Baratheon? You look so fucking lost right now, mate." Robb said from the other side of the table, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Sorry, Stark. I was just… Fuck. Never mind." He trailed off, already lost for words.

He left his statement drifting and just resorted to finishing another cup of wine.

"Gods, you're so utterly fucked, Baratheon. To simply put it, those are the best words to describe yourself right now." Jon told him.

Gendry knew that it was never meant to be insulting because he could see the sincerity in the way that Jon smiled at him.

"This is your sister's fault, Snow. She's a total headfuck, and I can't help but…" Gendry sighed heavily as he buried his head in his hands. "She's fucking with my head and I don't know what to do."

Robb and Jon laughed harder this time.

"You'll figure it out, Gendry. For now, let's enjoy the rest of this Dornish Red." Came Robb's reassuring words.

So, enjoy they did until Gendry could feel the pain no more.

**Arya**

"Arya… Wake up, love." The familiar voice whispered in her ear.

She suddenly stirred when she felt those familiar lips trailing kisses along her exposed neck, slowly awakening her desires.

"Wake up…" The voice told her again.

She felt a wave of pleasure when his tongue started licking at the pulse points of her neck, a moan escaping her lips.

Gods, she missed that skillful tongue. If only he'd run his tongue on her lips so that she could welcome it inside her mouth.

"That's right, love. I want to hear you moan." His raspy voice lingered, its vibration fueling the fire deep inside her.

The warm hands on her hips now traveled to the sides of her breasts, tenderly caressing her, the sensation of his deft fingers was only separated by the thin chemise she wore to sleep.

She moaned again as his lips continued its flaming journey down the uncovered tops of her breasts.

His hands then skimmed down to her bare legs, hiking up the skirts of her nightclothes above her knees and feeling the cold air breezing through her skin there.

"Hmmm, so delicious." His breath was warm as his mouth finally hovered over one of her teats.

It earned another moan from her when she felt his lips sucking a puckered nipple that was still covered by her barely-there chemise. Then his tongue swirled along the fabric, soaking it along the process, and making her hardened nipple more pronounced.

"Fuck, I can't wait to strip you off your clothes and run my tongue all over your naked, luscious body, love. I can't want to fuck your brains out and penetrate you for the first time."

"Yes, please…" She responded in a breathy whimper as his lips now travelled to the middle part of her abdomen.

"Please? Please, what? What do you want, love?"

"More… I want more, please."

Her eyes were still closed as his lips continued its way down her body. She felt the warmth leave her thighs as he inched her nightclothes higher towards her waist, making the lower part of her body completely bare before him

She felt his teeth nipping the inner sides of her thighs. "I'm going to eat you like a feast and make you come so fucking hard…"

Her breathing hitched at his wicked promise. Never had she craved the touch of another man like she craved her lover's touch.

She wanted him to continue where they'd left off at the forge before they were unfortunately interrupted by Ser Arys.

She wanted him to defile her, to make her feel the pleasures of coming from the most soul-obliterating climax.

She wanted him to own her body.

She was all his, body and soul, and there was no more denying that.

"Gendry, please…" She cried again, saying his name for the first time as if in pleading adoration.

But the atmosphere seemed to have darkened the moment she said his name because the way he gripped her thighs suddenly grew tighter, the nails on his fingers digging into her skin painfully.

"What did you say?!" The voice now seemed to have morphed into something more sinister.

It finally forced her eyes open.

Horror replaced the pleasure she felt in one abrupt second.

"No!" She let out a terrified scream as she saw the despicable face of last person she wanted to see.

And all along she thought it was Gendry. She could have sworn that the touch she'd felt earlier was Gendry's because no one else touched her like that.

But now that she heard the change in his voice, she realized that it was someone else—someone else who was darkly obsessed with her.

She fought her hardest to pull away from his hold, but he was stronger than her.

"I'm not letting you go now, _love._" Came his mocking endearment.

She was utterly disgusted by his travesty.

"Let me go!" Arya screamed. Or so she thought.

She opened her mouth again, but nothing would come out. She seemed to have lost her voice.

She started kicking and fighting him back, but she felt her muscles constricting, as if she could not move at all.

"No!" Her thoughts screamed again as she fought her way out of his brutal hold.

The last she saw were his wormy lips snickering evilly at her before she finally woke from her sleep.

Arya was breathing hard and she could feel the sweat soaking her nightclothes.

She blinked back again before squinting when she realized how much the light from her windows was assaulting her eyes.

When she finally let reality sink in, she released a relieved sigh and rose to a sitting position on her featherbed.

"Shit!" She cussed, raking the tangled hair away from her face.

It was all just a dream. A pleasurable dream that had turned into a nightmare.

Seven hells. She cursed internally again.

She allowed a few more minutes to sit on her bed and let her mind wander.

Her eyes scanned her bedchambers, trying to figure out the time of the day. Judging from the way the sun was shining bright orange rays outside her window, she must have woken up late in the afternoon, just before sundown, considering how late she'd slept last night after—

Her mind froze as memories from the night before violated her thoughts.

What happened next was involuntary as she felt fat tears falling down her face at the memory of Gendry's devastated face right before he left her in the library.

He might have been the one to leave her inside to ponder, but it was her who ended things between them.

And now, she's just a miserable idiot who had lost not only her betrothed, but her best friend as well.

A sob broke out from her lips at the thought of losing him forever after he'd leave for King's Landing.

It hurt so badly, she could hardly breathe.

Why did she have to develop some sort of feelings for a southron prince? Why couldn't he just be someone from Winterfell? Like an ordinary blacksmith, perhaps? Why did he have to bear all those responsibilities that came with his title? That because of that stupid title, she knew he had no other choice but to feel compelled to order her to come with him back to the capital. Why did he have to be the future king of the Seven Kingdoms?

Why?

She brought herself to lie back on her featherbed, crouching to a fetal position as she allowed the tears to fall freely.

Half an hour more passed before her tears finally dried up, and along with that was the sound of her stomach grumbling. It was then that she realized her stomach was still empty, recalling that the last meal she had was their supper from last night.

As soon as she found her footing, she paced towards her table to perform her regular ablutions of washing her face and changing her clothes.

She was considering staying inside her chambers for the rest of the night, but she could no longer control her growing hunger. She needed to eat or else her mood would only worsen.

What she'd chosen to wear that night would definitely surprise the living shit out of everyone because she opted to put on one of the finest dresses she owned in her closet.

It was all black, with an exceptionally low neckline to emphasize her budding bosom. She let her hair down as usual to cover the faint traces of Gendry's love bites from the other day and she applied rouge to her cheeks in the faintest hope of concealing the evidence of despair from her face.

When she entered the Great Hall, she felt everyone's eyes on her despite directing her gaze to the floor as she headed towards her designated table.

As she took a seat in her usual spot, the very first thing she noticed was Jon's current state since he was just seated right beside her.

She knew that face so well by now. That was how her brother looked like whenever he had one too many cups of wine or ale to drink.

"Why do you look like shit, Jon?" She still found the need to ask, albeit in a quiet voice.

Jon only nursed the cup in his hands morosely, not even turning to look at her. She had an inkling that he was just downing some water this time.

"My head fucking hurts." Came Jon's stupid response.

"And why is that? Did you drink too much again?"

"Something like that." Her brother replied before finally looking at her.

For a moment, his expression morphed into surprise, his jaw almost dropping to the floor.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sister?" He japed, which only made her roll her eyes.

"Shut up." Was all she said.

"Why are you wearing a dress all of a sudden?"

The idiot had to ask the most stupid question. But it had Arya falling silent for a while at the realization of what this subconscious implication meant.

She was wearing black because she was mourning for her loss.

But she was not really in the mood to share anything not even to her closest brother.

"I don't know, maybe because it's none of your fucking business. Go on and continue looking like shit over there and let me eat my first meal of the day in peace." Came her sardonic retort, grabbing whatever serving of food she saw first.

Arya then heard Jon mumble something like, "Ugh, this is why you and Gendry need to reconcile because you both have the shittiest moods…"

Her eyes grew wide at the thought of Jon having awareness about what had transpired between her and Gendry.

"What was that?!" She exclaimed, her fork stopping mid-air before her mouth could devour her food and giving all her attention to him.

"Oh, come on. You know what I mean. Why do you think I also look like shit right now?" He told her before he jutted his chin towards the dais where Robb, their parents and the royals were seated.

It was there that she saw the similar dispositions of Robb and Gendry who also seemed shit-faced hungover.

"Have you lot been drinking the whole day?!" She blurted.

"Obviously. Your future-husband is heartbroken, so it's imperative for his good-brothers to rescue him from the despair brought about by some girl he's so crazy about." Jon half-mumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers.

Arya felt herself blush before instinctively looking towards Gendry's direction. He met her gaze stoically for a few short seconds, before finding something else that caught his attention. Whatever that was, Arya never knew for she, too, redirected her eyes somewhere else.

"He's not going to be my husband anymore." Was her brief statement before she remained quiet for the rest of her supper.

It might be selfish of her, but she regarded Jon's post-inebriation somewhat a blessing because his headache shut her brother up, thus preventing him from goading her to talk about her issues with Gendry.

She was about to excuse herself after finishing her meal when Sansa interrupted her all of a sudden.

"Walk with me to the glass gardens?" Her sister offered.

Arya had to be honest, the glass gardens would definitely serve as a welcome diversion at this moment.

Nodding her head in acceptance, she stood up wordlessly as she and her sister exited the Great Hall.

The moon was already shining brightly above as soon as they reached the glass gardens.

Arya still hadn't said a word, so it was her sister who broke the silence.

"This may be hard for you to believe, but I'm really going to miss you, you know. Despite our differences and our constant bickering especially when we were younger, I'm still going to miss you." Sansa suddenly spoke as she stopped to face Arya.

There was a sweet smile etched on her face. "And I am overjoyed of the fact that you'll eventually be becoming the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms one day. I never thought I'd live to see the day when I would tell you how much you deserve it more than anyone else. I just thought you should know."

Arya wore a shocked look on her face.

"But I thought you've always wanted to be the queen? And besides, if you haven't heard already, there won't be any wedding. I broke off my engagement with Gendry last night." Came Arya's surprisingly calm statement.

Sansa's lack of overreaction was enough to draw a conclusion that her sister was indeed aware of her current circumstance with Gendry.

"I guess when you find the love of your life, even the crown won't matter anymore." Her sister explained. "When I met Willas, I threw away all my desires of becoming the queen. For what good would a crown be if you wouldn't end up with the person you love? And it turns out that I love Willas more than I love becoming queen to some faceless royal.

"It was too shallow of me to be so ambitious during my younger years as to want the crown for myself out of sheer vanity, just loving the idea of the title and not really considering if I could love whoever was heir to the throne. But I am only glad that Father saw what my heart truly desired and allowed my betrothal to Willas.

"And I know about what transpired between you and Gendry. Apparently, our brothers could not keep their mouths shut and had to tell the rest of our siblings and Theon. Gods, they're the worst gossips. They gossip more than those simpering little ladies at court."

Arya snorted at how immature their older brothers could be at times.

"Tell me about it. At least the only consolation in all this was the satisfaction of seeing them look like dipshits in their drunken state. Good for them. I hope those blabbering idiots will suffer from their hangover until tomorrow."

Sansa laughed heartily.

"I always love your humor." Came her sister's remarks.

Not long after, they fell into another span of winding silence as they walked towards the center of the glass gardens, finding themselves a wooden bench to sit on.

"I can see that Gendry truly adores you. You've got to be so calloused if you haven't felt it yourself. Everyone thinks that you are a perfect match. Even Mother, Father and the King thinks so. I don't really know how or what you did to him, but he is practically head over heels for you, Arya." Sansa finally told her, looking into her eyes intently.

Arya held her sister's gaze with practiced aloofness.

"Regardless of what he feels, it's over between us, Sans." Was her brief response.

"He looks devastated, you know. When I saw him for the first time today, I intuitively knew that there was something wrong. It was then that I realized that it had something to do with you. And this was even before Robb and Jon told me what had happened." Sansa explained, before she added, "Although, I completely understand why you're refusing to acknowledge your feelings right now. Maybe because of the notion you have instilled inside that head of yours about the negative consequences brought about by marriage and children as if it's a curse. Because you are afraid that it will rob you off your volition."

She could only remain silent as her sister unraveled what lied beneath the depths of Arya's heart.

"But you'll soon realize that it's not that bad after all. Because when you're with the right person, you would no longer see marriage as a mere obligation. The person who genuinely loves you would never allow you to lose yourself." Sansa added.

Arya pondered for a moment.

What Sansa said just made her realize something—that all along, Gendry had indeed just let her be herself. Never for once had he asked her to change anything about herself nor become someone else.

Arya could not bring herself to look at her sister because she realized how correct Sansa was in that aspect.

She then found herself controlling the tears that were pooling on her eyes from falling as she got lost in the thoughts of her and Gendry being over now.

She knew that her sister was just observing her, allowing her to wallow in her contemplation, which was a good thing, because Arya never really felt like opening up to her right now.

Another few minutes of silence had passed. The comforting quiet void allowed Arya to compose herself.

"On a lighter note, I guess it's a good thing that you get to stay with Gendry even before your wedding. That is, if you both reconcile and leave with him back to King's Landing. As for myself, I have to unfortunately wait for a few more months before Willas would come and take me back to the Reach for our wedding." Sansa confided.

Arya's ears rang at the sudden epiphany following her sister's revelation.

How could she be so stupid? She completely forgot about her sister's imminent marriage to the heir of Highgarden.

Her mind was now working like gears in motion as an idea slowly started constructing inside her head.

"Sansa?" Arya finally spoke after what felt like eons ago.

"Hmmm?" Her sister questioned, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"When did you say your wedding to your betrothed was?"

"In six months. I can't believe I have to wait that long!" Sansa mewled, oblivious to Arya's thinking face.

This time, the idea finally materialized as clear as day.

Her salvation was finally within reach.

Without saying another word, she stood up abruptly, surprising her sister.

"What's going on, Arya?" Sansa had to ask as she was greatly bewildered by Arya's sudden change of mood.

"I have to go, Sans." Was her enigmatic response before she started to pace back towards the castle.

"What? Wait, where are you going?" Her sister stood up to catch up with her, still holding a very confused look.

"Sorry about that. I have something else to do. But I thank you for your time, really."

"What are you up to, Arya?"

Releasing a sigh, she said, "I'm making a compromise, Sans. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Arya gave her sister an awkward smile, and before she turned away to head back inside, she noticed Sansa finally falling into a silent understanding about what Arya might be up to.

Sansa smiled back before saying, "Well, then. Good luck!"

Arya gave her a wave before disappearing inside.

She might have felt bad for leaving her sister in the glass gardens after what seemed like Sansa's attempt at having a proper heart-to-heart, but Arya saw the understanding in Sansa's face, so she knew that her sister forgave her for her inability to acknowledge her feelings.

Her resolve to propose a compromise to him solidified the moment she stepped foot on the halls where their adjacent bedchambers were situated. However, she was met by an obstacle when she saw two of Gendry's Kingsguards standing by his door, deeming her unable to sneak inside his chambers without anyone noticing her.

She switched to a calmer pacing the closer she got to her destination.

"Good evening, Ser Arys, Ser Barristan. Is Gendry available right now?" Came her good-natured inquiry.

Both Kingsguards shared a bemused look before averting their gaze at her.

"I apologize, My Lady. But His Grace specifically informed us that he won't be accepting any visitors at this moment. I believe has already retired for the night as he has been indisposed the entire day." It was Ser Arys who informed her in what she noticed was a regretful tone.

That piece of information did not really surprise her considering that Gendry already looked like a pathetic drunken shit when she had a quick glance at him during supper.

"So, he's asleep now because he's piss-drunk, is he not?" She concluded.

"Aye, My Lady. He barely even made it to his chambers. The King also found the need to station us here as the prince is very much vulnerable to open threats due to his current indisposition." Ser Barristan explained.

Arya finally nodded in understanding.

"I see. Well, I thank you for your hard work in protecting our prince, Sers." Giving them a curtsy, she added, "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, My Lady." They replied in unison.

As soon as she got inside her chambers, she wasted no time racing towards her writing desk to find any piece of parchment she could use to write on.

If Gendry was unavailable tonight due to his current state, at least he would know that she had made an effort of seeking him out. Besides, he deserved all the apologies from her for acting so brashly the other night. Moreover, the reason for his decision to get intoxicated was all because of her. Even Jon would never let her forget that.

Finally locating a blank parchment lying underneath a forgotten book on her writing desk, she wrote a short message for him:

_G, _

_I wanted to let you know that I tried looking for you so that I may have a word with you, but your Kingsguards told me you were indisposed. _

_I'm sorry if you got drunk because of me. _

_I'm so sorry for everything. _

_Come find me as soon as you're available. _

_Yours for always, _

_A_

She stamped her message with her own wax seal and headed back outside to ask the Kingsguards once more if she could at least slip her letter through his door in the hopes that he could read it before it was too late.

Dawn finally broke, which took forever to arrive since Arya could not find sleep that night.

The evidence of her eyebags served as her punishment for the conflict that caused a fracture in her relationship with Gendry. She blamed herself for everything, especially for leading him to drown out his despair through mindless drinking.

Arya had never felt so sorry for being such a stubborn little shit.

Now that she realized how much Gendry cared about her, she could no longer hold her need to barge inside his chambers and apologize to him.

So, she rose from her bed even before the sun rose up and started her day early.

After performing her morning ablutions, she finally headed out of her chambers, only to find that Gendry had already gone out of his own quarters as evidenced by the absence of his Kingsguards standing at his door, and the maids tidying up his room.

She had never felt so defeated for she knew that the royal party was heading back to King's Landing the following day.

The brevity of time posed as a real challenge for her.

Walking forlornly along the still empty halls of Winterfell, she pondered over how she would be able to approach Gendry, much less find him. She couldn't even see his shadow nor detect any traces of his presence.

Where could he be at this time of day? It was still too early for holding council meetings, which was why she was really expecting to find him inside his bedchambers, still sleeping. She was even hoping that she'd be the one to rouse him from his slumber.

All she wanted to do was hold him. That was how badly she missed him.

Arya didn't have any destination in particular as she floundered aimlessly along the castle, completely immersed in her thoughts.

Gendry was leaving tomorrow, and they hadn't even reconciled yet.

She didn't want him to leave with bad blood between them. He was still, after all, her best friend, and she was positive that she would never be able to find someone like Gendry.

She cared for him the way that he did for her, and she wanted him to know that. Besides, she had a proposal that might save their betrothal.

Suddenly, as she was busy trudging along the empty halls that led her towards the glass gardens, she felt a presence behind her.

However, before she could even see who it was and defend herself from her potential perpetrator, she got herself ensnared by a strong, muscled arm. A large hand was also covering her mouth which prevented her from shouting an alarm.

In the next moment, she found herself being brought to an alcove that was completely hidden from any passersby.

Her heart lurched in panic.

How could she be so careless? She hadn't even brought Nymeria with her because she had let her wolf do her routine morning hunt in the godswood.

She would never forgive herself if she got herself stupidly abducted by Ramsey Bolton just because she hadn't been mindful enough of her surroundings.

Before she could protest and fight off the brutish strength of the unknown person grabbing her, she was unceremoniously pinned onto the wall.

It finally gave her the chance to face her captor as she looked up, only to be met by mesmerizing wild blue eyes.

"Gendry? What—"

But before she could say another word, she was silenced when Gendry suddenly caught her jaw and captured her lips in a brutal kiss.

She didn't show any hesitation and immediately responded to his kiss with raw desire.

The gods knew how much she missed kissing him like this.

Their kiss was not slow nor passionate. It was animalistic and heady, born out of the need to finally touch each other after being temporarily torn apart by their conflict.

She felt his tongue probing further inside her mouth, and she willingly allowed him to. His tongue finally swept inside, dancing with her own as their kiss became more fervent.

Fuck him and his skillful tongue.

He was like a drug, and she was always high with him.

She didn't hold back her moan when she felt his hands travel from her jaw down to her body so that he could cup her ass and carry her up to level with his towering height.

This was reminiscent of their first kiss as she hooked her legs around his waist and clung to his shoulders for purchase. When she was certain that Gendry already took care of holding her weight, she allowed herself to feel the softness of his raven hair. Her fingers had a strength of their own as she pulled his hair more forcefully, earning a grunt from Gendry. But it didn't stop him from brutalizing her tongue with his. If anything, he even bit her lower lip and then soothed the passing pain with the sensual flick of his tongue.

When she surfaced for some air, she could feel Gendry latching on her neck, the feel of his lips and tongue so familiar now. His stubble might have grown longer but it only heightened her pleasure all the more, not caring if his unshaven jaw chafed her skin.

She just wanted to relish being able to hold him physically before they would be parting ways tomorrow. Being with him was all that mattered at that exact moment.

She moaned again as she felt the wetness of his tongue licking the side of her neck, lingering on a spot that always made her quiver with undulating pleasure.

She was breathing so hard right now, she just wanted to explode.

She involuntarily ground her hips and felt the unbidden pleasure resting in between her legs.

"Oh my god…" She moaned, her eyes rolling up the to the back of her head.

Arya felt Gendry chucking as the sound vibrated on her neck.

He gave one last lick on the spot she realized was his favorite place to nip on and gave her a final kiss on the lips before slightly pulling away to meet her eyes.

His eyes might be dark with lust, but they were also enveloped with honesty when he spoke in a breathless whisper, "I want you back, Arya. Please, let's work this out." Came his plea.

The hands that were raking his hair slowly traveled their way down to his unshaven jaw before pulling his head towards her and giving his lips a soft brush while savoring his taste, then whispering back, "I miss you. I'm sorry for all that I said."

"I miss you more, love." He whispered back, before locking his lips with hers once more.

They shared another insatiable kiss for a minute or two before they finally broke off, albeit reluctantly.

Arya regained her footing on the ground, but she still had her arms wrapped around Gendry's neck while his hands were grasping her waist and pulling her a little bit closer.

Due to their height difference, she was standing on tiptoes so that their faces were only mere inches apart.

"Did you receive the letter I left for you on your door last night?" She asked, looking up at him.

Gendry's eyes never left hers as he nodded, "Yes, I read it the moment I woke up."

"Good. Because I really need to talk to you about something."

"What do you want to talk about, love?"

Arya held her breath for a moment before replying, "I want to propose a compromise."

"What compromise is that?" He asked with an eyebrow raised.

"I will finally agree to live with you in King's Landing. No questions asked."

The revelation lightened up Gendry's face, although it was only short-lived after it finally dawned on him what a compromise meant. He knew her too well to know that her terms always came with a catch.

"Really? How is that going to be a compromise, pray tell?" He questioned.

"I'll leave Winterfell when my sister does. Sansa is going to be sent to Highgarden in a few months to marry Willas Tyrell anyway. Highgarden will come visit Winterfell and take Sansa back to the Reach. I could go with their party and they can stop by King's Landing so that they can send me to you in one piece. How is that?" Came her explanation.

Gendry contemplated for a few seconds. "And exactly when is your sister getting married?"

"In six months." Arya replied almost excitedly but Gendry shook his head.

"Arya, you have to remember your current situation. That Bolton bastard is going to come for you anytime." Gendry tried to explain.

Arya huffed a frustrated sigh then she looked at him with imploring eyes. "Gendry, please. You also need to understand that once I leave Winterfell, nothing is ever going to be the same. At least give me this one last chance to say goodbye to my childhood home and allow me a few more months to stay here."

She didn't give a fuck if she sounded desperate.

"It's just that…" Arya continued, her eyes now downcast. "I need this time to be able to remember what home feels like before I am going to be sent off to marry you." She bit her lip tentatively before facing him to speak again.

"Please, Gendry… If you will grant me this request, then I will gracefully submit myself to travel to King's Landing with my sister in due time. I promise to keep myself safe at all times and I will even have one of your guards watch over me if you like. I will no longer escape Winterfell by myself and I will do anything you want me to do when I get to King's Landing—anything. Besides, I still owe you for losing our bet. But for now, please allow me to do this for my own sake."

The underlying desperation in her appeal only heightened to the point where she even bargained to do his bidding just for this one last taste of independence.

She couldn't even bear to meet his cerulean gaze because she would have no idea how she would react once he decided to deny her request.

Just as she was already certain that he would turn down her terms, she felt warm fingers guiding her chin up so that she could look at him.

Finally releasing a sigh, he spoke.

"A month." His face was profoundly serious when he said those words.

Arya furrowed her brows.

"What?" She hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You'll go with your sister to King's Landing in a month. I will send a raven to Highgarden today and I'll be corresponding with Lord Willas to schedule their arrival in Winterfell earlier. Then you can all stay in King's Landing before the wedding happens. Hence you will have more time with your sister in the capital and I will be welcoming the whole party as valued guests." He proposed.

Arya grit her teeth in subtle annoyance, cautious enough to not let Gendry show her temper.

"Five months." She tried to bargain.

He only held a humorless look, one that she deemed was the condescending side of Gendry. If Gendry had a face fit for his royal status, it was this look which exuded intimidation. One would never even know that he used to be a low-born bastard of Flea Bottom. He had been groomed well to characterize his role as the crown prince.

"Two months." Came his steely negotiation.

She clenched her fists to control her growing displeasure. But she couldn't outright complain. This was after all a compromise.

"Four months." She could only do so much as provide another suggestion.

Gendry's hands were on her waist as he pulled her closer once more.

He brushed his lips on hers for a short, chaste kiss before saying, "Two months, love. That's final."

Arya only rolled her eyes, puffing a defeated sigh. "Fine. Two months it is. As His Grace wishes."

Gendry couldn't seem to get his hands off her because he was flicking his tongue on her lips again to steal another kiss. "I'm sorry if two months is all I can give you, Arya. I can't bear to be away from you. We can't also risk Ramsey plotting anything in those two months."

Arya nodded, finally yielding to his terms. She was thankful, nevertheless, for the time he allowed her. She would take anything he could give just as long as it was enough to allow her to bid a proper goodbye to Winterfell.

"I understand, Gendry. That bargain was fair enough."

Gendry's expression then shifted, and he was now back to being just her best friend.

"So, are you my betrothed once more?" Came his hopeful question, his smile showing the dimple that made him look so devastatingly handsome.

Alright, maybe not just her best friend but perhaps her _lover_ as well.

That word felt so new to her, but that was the best word to describe their relationship especially when they were already shoving their tongue down each other's throats.

Besides, mere friends would not do what they have been doing. Friends would not lust over each other and ask the other to fuck them and take their maidenhead. And she practically begged Gendry to fuck her just a few days ago.

Arya couldn't help but return the sentiment, her lips curling up on their own volition. "Obviously, Gendry. I don't really need to spell that out, but what the hell, yes, I'm your betrothed once more."

This time, Gendry gave her a crushing hug, lifting her up in the process.

As he put her down, he said, "Gods, I can't wait to reunite with you in King's Landing so that I can court you proper, Arya. I'm going to show you my world in the hopes that you'll love it, too."

Gendry was too adorable. Of course, he still had doubts about himself.

"I'm going to love whatever you'll be showing me, Gendry. You ought to know that by now."

He didn't say another word and instead closed the distance between them again for one final kiss. This time, it was a bit more subdued than their usual heated kiss, as if he was taking his time memorizing the taste of her lips and the way it molded against his like a perfect fit.

After they had their fill of each other, Gendry didn't waste time in taking her hand as he started coming out of their secret alcove, their fingers automatically intertwining as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Come on, Arya." He urgently told her.

Arya was walking behind him, holding a puzzled look as she allowed Gendry to half-drag her.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm holding a council."

"But what's that got to do with me?"

"We're both announcing our reconciled betrothal. I want you in there with me, we're doing this together. Besides, it's about time they allowed you to join our council meetings, anyway."

It was obvious enough that Arya's brain was still trying to process what he just said, so he stopped walking altogether in order to face her.

"You're bound to be my wife and my queen someday. I want you by my side whenever important decisions are being made. I won't be keeping you in the dark anymore, and I won't make decisions if you're not there with me." Was his unexpected promise to her.

Her heart fluttered in unfathomable joy that it radiated through the smile she was giving him.

"Thank you, Gendry… From the bottom of my heart." Those were the only things that came out of her lips because what he just told her left her out of words.

Gendry squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

"Anything for my queen." He winked before they both dashed towards the lord's solar, hand in hand and reunited once more.


	13. Chapter 13

**CRASH INTO ME**

**Chapter 13: ****Parting**

**Gendry**

The finished handiwork rested on his hands as he tested its weight, the way the candlelight glimmered on the shiny blade indicated its newness. It was just about the right weight and its grip was also perfect for smaller hands.

If there was one thing Gendry felt proud about himself, it was never his birthright as heir.

It was this.

It was his trade.

He never regretted a day in his life working at the forge, because not only did it hone his skills and allow him to have a sense of responsibility at a young age, it also paved way for his resilience, a key ingredient to molding his character. He was more than grateful for being given the opportunity to make a living for himself because had he been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, there would have been a higher chance of him turning out to be a cocky, self-entitled bastard.

Gendry only hoped his betrothed would like it—his parting gift, before the southron party would leave for the capital the next day. This was all he could offer her as something to remember him by. Not a ring, not a piece of jewelry, but a dagger fit for her tiny, warrior hands. At least she would be able to put it to good use. And perhaps she could use it to slit Ramsey Bolton's throat.

That fucking sick bastard was good, he had to admit. His spies came back empty-handed for they were unable to find a verifiable evidence that would cement Bolton's treasonous crime and give Gendry the signal to enact his retribution.

An even more pressing matter was the discovery about the Boltons making a sturdy alliance with the Freys and the Lannisters in plotting against the crown, his spies reported. His suspicions were correct, and it was only a matter of time before they would make their move and wage useless war. As for him, he had to sharpen his wits and think of a way to avoid war at all costs and save thousands of lives, that's why his first agenda once he'd step foot in the capital was to hold a war council.

He felt the blade with his fingers for one last inspection before he finally sheathed it back.

Releasing a sigh, he paced back and forth inside his chambers, biding his time. He had been waiting in the past hour or so for the rest of the castle to go to sleep so that he could deliver his gift to Arya.

Inside her bedchambers.

Aside from his parting gift, he'd also been contemplating the entire day about the other thing he had in mind that he would like to give to her. He'd been hesitating at first, but the more time progressed into the night, the more he felt his intentions solidifying.

The more he felt so sure—braver.

Tonight was going to be the night. And he promised he would make it count.

Newly-forged weapon in hand, he slowly peeked outside to see if the coast was clear, and when he was certain about the lack of people milling about in the castle halls, he slowly crept out of his chambers and headed towards the next room.

Taking a deep breath, he finally rapped his knuckles on her door.

**Arya**

She finally felt her body giving in to drowsiness as Arya lay on her featherbed. She had been reading a book on her bed in order to slowly welcome sleep and let it entice her to close her eyes.

Just when she was about to give in to slumber, she heard a soft knock on her door.

She was tempted not to answer it, now that sleep finally claimed her, but she had a feeling she knew who was waiting on the other side.

Disregarding the need to cover her modesty, she rose up and immediately headed towards her door.

It wasn't really a surprise that he came knocking on her door on his last night in Winterfell. Not that she was also expecting him to come around. She also didn't regret not giving in to sleep if it meant having to spend these last few hours with him.

Without saying a word, she moved aside to let him in.

His eyes were on hers the entire time, raking through her body which was only covered by her usual sleeping chemise. She could have sworn that there was a different glint in those darkened eyes. And he didn't even look like the friend she had met at the lake the first time. No, he was leering at her as if he was about to fuck her.

She felt her heart reacting as it suddenly raced, her body suddenly felt so hot, and she felt the familiar slickness in the middle of her thighs whenever she caught him looking at her like that.

Without pulling his gaze away from her, he moved a hand behind to lock her door. The implication giving her the wildest of ideas.

She bit her lip in fluttering anticipation as she slowly started to move backwards, her stormy eyes bewitched by his mesmerizing dark gaze.

Gendry, on the other hand, looked like a delectable predator as he sauntered closer to her proximity.

"What's brings you here?" She finally found the voice to ask, but only after taking a few deep breaths.

How he always managed to make her breathless was already beyond her.

A faint grin formed on his lips, stopping when she also stopped moving backwards.

"Two things." He briefly replied.

Arya raised an eyebrow, this time, her expression meeting the lecherous look on his face. "Oh yeah? Pray tell, what are those things?"

Gendry finally showed her what he'd been keeping behind his back.

"First, this. My parting gift for m'lady high." He said as he presented her his handiwork.

Taking his present and unsheathing it, she took some time to marvel at the sleek dagger, her eyes in two wide orbs. With a work like this, it could easily pass as his magnum opus. It looked so carefully crafted that she considered not using it to avoid wearing it out. As her eyes scanned at the intricate handle of the dagger, she saw what she thought could be his blacksmith mark, which was the mark of a bull's head.

Gods, there was something so arousing about the thought of her betrothed gifting her with weapons instead of useless jewelry. He indeed knew her too well by now. What even made it more special was the fact that he made them with his own hands instead of commissioning someone else to do it for him.

She felt Gendry observing her the whole time she was inspecting her new weapon.

Finally meeting his eyes, she spoke, "Gendry, this is… This is so beautiful. You're indeed a talented craftsman."

His grand gesture left her speechless for a moment. She suddenly felt bad for not considering about gifting him something.

"I'm sorry if I don't have anything for you. I'm not good with my hands like you are." Came her apologetic statement.

It only made Gendry snicker more salaciously.

"Oh, but you will be good with your hands, love. That's the other reason why I came to see you."

His sentence left Arya puzzled for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"The second reason why I'm here, my other gift for you." He told her, his voice getting more raspy as he slowly snatched the dagger from her hands and put in on her side table. "On second thought, this is more like my punishment for you."

Her heart only thundered rapidly the more he drew closer to her.

"Punishment?" She sputtered.

"Yes, love. I'm going to make you regret not coming back with me to King's Landing tomorrow."

It still left Arya confused. Never had she felt so stupid in her entire life. But her mind wasn't really comprehending anything at that moment, not when Gendry was making her feel stimulated in all the right places.

"What the fuck are you talking—"

She wasn't allowed to finish her sentence because he was suddenly scooping her waist with his hands and plunging his mouth on her lips. She could instantly smell his scent, the familiar scent of musk and Gendry she loved so much, along with the scent of soap, which indicated that he just had a bath not long ago.

Before she could deepen the kiss and massage her tongue inside his mouth, he abruptly pulled away so that he could look at her.

"Are you finally going to fuck me, Gendry?" She asked, finally getting the gist of his suggestive implication.

But Gendry seemed to have something else on his mind when his impish grin only grew wider, as if he knew she was going to ask him that question.

"No. That's the thing, love. I'm not going to fuck you yet. But I'm going to make you want for more, it'll be the only thing you'd be thinking of during the times we will be apart. I'm going to drive you mad with need." He whispered relentlessly as his lips mapped out the familiar zones of her neck, setting her body ablaze.

_Shit_, she cursed internally. She couldn't help but moan as he started licking her for a few seconds.

Just as she was about to let out another moan, the bastard stopped his sinful ministrations on her neck. His action left her feeling frustrated.

"What are you really getting at, Gendry?" She was certain that Gendry could see the beginnings of agitation from her face.

Gendry didn't answer her, and before she could ask more questions, he suddenly grabbed her towards the other side of her featherbed that was facing her looking glass.

He then sat on the edge of her featherbed and pulled her down on his lap, with her back on his chest and her body enclosed between his spread legs. They were both facing the looking glass right now.

Gendry looked at her through her reflection as one of his arms snaked around her waist to hold her while the other one was caressing its way up her thighs, just stopping underneath the length of her nightclothes.

He assaulted her neck with another a kiss before his tongue started licking and nipping at her pulse points.

Then he whispered in a low voice, "I want you to look at me while I teach you how to pleasure yourself."

Arya heard an involuntary whimper coming out of her lips.

_Oh my god_, she thought to herself as she felt her ears pounding at the pleasure slowly taking over her senses.

Then Gendry's right hand started to worm its way up her thighs while grasping at the fabric of her chemise at the same time until he left it bunching on her waist. She was now seeing the bareness of the lower part of her body from the looking glass.

She contemplated pulling down her nightclothes to cover herself again for a second, suddenly feeling so self-conscious because Gendry was finally seeing her cunt for the first time.

What if hers wasn't as pretty as the other girls he'd been with? Came her stupid thought.

But then when she saw the way Gendry admired her through the mirror, she finally decided against it and just went with the flow.

She bit her lip as he met his eyes again through their reflection.

"No smallclothes, I see… You're such a naughty girl, Arya…" He told her before stealing a short kiss from her lips, "But you're still so beautiful, nonetheless."

Arya was already rendered speechless by the sensation of his warm hand on her inner thigh, so she only moaned in response.

"Observe closely how I am going to slowly make you come undone with my fingers. And then when I'm gone, I want you to touch yourself to thoughts of me every night and how I made you come for the first time."

Arya felt herself grinding against Gendry's lap at the filthy words he was spewing. Gods, she never realized how much she loved Gendry talking dirty to her.

As she ground her ass on him some more, she could feel the hardness of his cock. She could have sworn her cunt was also getting wetter.

"That's right, love. Feel how hard I am for you… and only for you." He trailed off as he inhaled her scent then ran his lips on her neck again.

She suddenly felt her legs being parted by his large hand, "Spread your legs and show me more of that delicious cunt, love."

Arya did as he bid before he correctly positioned her left foot to rest on top of his left lap, allowing for a wider angle, while her other thigh was dangling through his other lap. The position itself looked so lascivious as she saw herself on the mirror.

Then finally, his fingers dipped into her cunt for the first time. A slick sound could be heard as he slowly circled his finger on her opening, gathering the already pooling moisture there and spreading it all over her folds.

"Fuck, I love how you're so wet already." He whispered. Then his hands were suddenly pressing on the erogenous bundle of nerves of her dripping cunt, making her jump slightly before she released another moan, this time louder. "This is how you pleasure yourself, love… This little nub here is going to bring you to the edge…"

She couldn't understand what she was feeling, only that she never wanted him to stop. It felt so good, she couldn't help but release more seductive moans.

"That's right. Moan for me, Arya. I want to hear you moaning in pleasure." He continued to touch her, building up her need.

"Does it feel good? Do my fingers make you feel so good?"

Arya met his eyes through the mirror before they travelled to the spot where he was touching her. Then her eyes involuntarily travelled to the back of her head as he continued to make lazy circles on her nub.

"Yes, so good… don't stop… please… oh god… yes!" She panted.

"That's a good girl. Think of me when you touch yourself at night. Think of me doing this to you. Think of me fucking you with my hands, with my cock, with my tongue. Gods, I'm going to lick you so good, you're going to come over and over…"

"Fuck… Gendry…" Arya moaned again, her chest heaving in short breaths as she was brought closer to the edge.

"Then I'm going to fuck your cunt so hard, the only thing you'd be screaming would be my name… I'm going to fuck you so good in all ways possible. I'm going to fuck you on my bed, then I'm going to bend you over and fuck you on my desk, then I'll let you ride my cock in the library as I penetrate deeper into you. I'm going to fuck you over every hard surface I could find.

"I'm going to eat your cunt like delicious dessert and make you cream as I lick you and bring you to kingdom come. I'm going to let you sit on my face as I fuck you slowly with my tongue.

"Then I'm going to penetrate all your holes, love. I'm going to fuck your tight, wet cunt and then fuck that tight ass of yours and fill all your holes with my seed until you'll feel it dripping out of you." Came Gendry's promise, his fingers continuing to circle on her clit.

The thought of Gendry fucking and filling all her holes with his seed only made Arya wetter, she could have sworn that her juices were now dripping down her inner thighs. She only moaned harder at his fingers moving faster.

"Gendry… oh my god! Please, don't stop! Please, don't stop!"

She was already a few seconds closer to the edge, her imagination becoming more vivid as he whispered all those filthy promises to her.

"That's right. Come for me, love… show me how good it feels…"

There was something about his command that made her release all her inhibitions as she finally reached that much awaited climax.

She didn't give a damn about how loud she moaned.

Her eyes rolled up once more as she felt the most powerful feeling she'd ever felt. There was an involuntary spasm on her feet as she felt the first wave of her very first orgasm.

His fingers continued to flick her clit as she rode out her orgasm, and then she felt so overwhelmed at the sensation that she suddenly pulled his fingers away from her cunt.

"Holy shit…" She whimpered after her climax finally ebbed away. Her own chest was heaving from the pleasurable exertion.

She felt limp on Gendry's lap as she rested the back of her head on his chest.

She looked at him from the looking glass and found herself surprised when Gendry brought the fingers responsible for bringing her to climax to his mouth. He sucked his fingers generously as he savored the taste of her cunt, never breaking eye-contact with her through the mirror.

It was the filthiest, most sinful thing she ever saw.

There was a loud pop as he pulled his fingers from his mouth.

"You taste so good, Arya. I can't wait to finally lick that heavenly cunt of yours." He told her before pulling her head to him for a wet, sloppy kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue.

She repositioned herself so that she was now straddling his thighs, her fingers disheveling his raven hair in the process.

Their tongues battled for dominance until Arya let Gendry win. She ground herself on his hardness once more, earning a moan from Gendry this time.

Slightly pulling away, she whispered to him, "I need you to fuck me right now, please." She pleaded.

Gendry snickered at her, "Not tonight, love. But there's one more thing I'd like to do…" He whispered before he suddenly cupped her ass and stood up, carrying Arya in the process as she hooked her legs around his waist.

He gave her another heated kiss as he turned away from the looking glass before finally pulling away from her and gently laying her down near the edge of her featherbed.

Arya was left to ponder on what might be on his mind next.

But her eyes only grew wider as she noticed Gendry standing before her and slowly unlacing the breeches he was wearing.

Confusion settled in for a few moments, recalling that Gendry didn't have the intent of fucking her, but he was still untying his breeches.

Gendry must have read the confusion from her face because he was suddenly ordering her to lay back down, "Stay there on the bed, love, and touch yourself this time. Show me how much you have learned." He rasped.

Her fingers began to move towards her cunt, surprised to find that it was still so slick from her first release, she could have sworn her wetness was now dripping down her sheets. Nevertheless, it felt so good she only splayed her legs wider.

"That's right, love. Spread your legs and show me that beautiful cunt of yours." Came Gendry's encouragement.

He, on the other hand, finally pulled his cock out from his breeches, his hand gripping his erection as he started to slowly stroke himself up and down.

Her eyes grew wider at the sheer size of his cock jutting out from his breeches.

Holy mother of god, was that going to be the cock that will be penetrating her for the first time?

"Fuck…" Arya moaned in pleasure at her growing imagination.

He was going to impale her holes with that enormous cock, and nothing felt more lascivious than the anticipation of feeling so full because of it that she felt another guttural moan escape from her lips.

"That's right, love. Enjoy touching yourself while I'm watching you. I'm going to memorize you like this while I think of you every night as I fuck myself with my hand." He told her, his eyes never leaving her cunt.

Gods, it was the most daring thing she'd ever done, and she was doing it in front of her favorite person in the world.

There was a strong feeling of empowerment at the thought of Gendry being aroused by the sight of Arya fucking herself. That it was her who was responsible for driving him to a lustful delirium.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful like that, love. Legs spread and cunt sopping wet all for me. Just for me." Gendry told her in between breaths as he continued to wank himself.

She never expected Gendry's words to be so crude, but she loved it all the same.

The filthy words abruptly halted for a few moments and only the sounds of their erotic moaning could be heard as they slowly chased each of their own releases.

She noticed Gendry's stroking becoming more frantic as he continued to concentrate on watching her touch herself. The prurient look in his eyes gave away the desire that had been building up.

"Fuck…" Gendry gritted his teeth as he finally drew closer to her while still stroking his cock and then finally settling on the edge of the featherbed.

Suddenly, Gendry dipped his knee onto the bed to support himself as he positioned the tip of his cock directly on her wet cunt. Arya then felt warm sprays of liquid coating her folds, the pearl-colored come beautifully decorating her mound.

He had released a huge load of his seed that she could feel the rest dripping along her cunt, down to the entrance of her ass.

Gendry was still looking at her, encouraging her to finish. "Go on, love. Use my come to lubricate your creamy cunt until you find your own release."

She did his bidding as her fingers slowly caught some of his seed and spread it all over her sopping cunt before going back to working on her bundle of nerves.

Fuck, the added slickness only heightened the pleasurable sensation.

It wasn't long before her fingers were moving on their own until she finally felt another burst of pleasure blinding her and making her eyes roll back.

"Gendry… fuck… yes…" She moaned as her orgasm obliterated her coherence.

She had never felt so high from her first self-induced pleasure.

Finally, after her orgasm ebbed away, it was her turn to bring her fingers to her mouth to suck off the remnants of Gendry's come.

"Hmmm…" She moaned as she kept her eyes on him as if she was sucking his cock instead of her fingers.

Her head bobbed up and down to emphasize her intent of wanting to suck all the come from his cock.

After she had swallowed the remnants of their combined juices, she finally popped out her fingers to say, "When I get to King's Landing, I'm going to suck that big cock of yours until you fill my mouth with your seed, and then I'm going swallow all of your come."

Gendry only groaned as he drew closer and held the back of her head, bringing her to him for another maddening kiss. "Yes, love. I'm going to fuck your mouth so hard, you'd be choking from my cock and then I'm going to let you swallow all of my seed."

Arya felt a renewed arousal at his brutal yet lewd promise. If only she still had the strength to push him back to her bed and impale herself on his cock. But given how much her two orgasms had drained out what's left of her energy, she could only feel the drowsiness seeping back into her system.

When they finally pulled away, Gendry gently guided her back to the head of her featherbed and tucked her in as he settled himself beside her.

They were facing each other while waiting for their breathing to even out.

"Are you alright, love? Did I hurt you in any way earlier?" Gendry asked her in a gentle whisper, a complete contrast to his raspy lustful tone earlier.

She felt his arm circling her waist as he pulled her closer to his chest, their faces only inches apart.

Their proximity allowed Arya to steal a short kiss from his lips before replying, "You didn't hurt me, Gendry. On the contrary, it was the best feeling I've ever experienced. It just felt so good… I can't wait to do it with you again when we see each other in King's Landing."

It earned a smile from Gendry. "I'm glad to know you enjoyed it… You'll enjoy it some more when I fulfill all those other promises I told you. I meant what I said earlier, Arya. I'm going to fuck you so good."

"I know, Gendry. And I can't wait for you to fuck all my holes, love… Gods, I love how dirty you talk." She whispered in a sultry voice as she cupped his face with her hand. "Shit, I'm still so aroused right now, why can't you just fuck me tonight?"

He gave her a remorseful look, "Because I know you won't have enough of the energy required for what I'll be doing to you, Arya. It'll only wear you out. At least we can both look forward to something during our time apart." He explained.

An uncharacteristic pout formed on her lips, "Fine, I regret not traveling with you back to King's Landing. There." She confessed.

Gendry chuckled, "I know, love. But don't worry, I'll have lots of surprises in store for you." He winked.

"Do these surprises involve giving me the greatest pleasure?"

"Absolutely."

"Then, I'm sold. You have me, body and soul. Do with me as you please."

"Oh, I'll do you good, alright." Came his response.

Arya finally fell silent as she allowed sleep to slowly come back to her system.

"You have no idea how much I'm going to miss you, Arya…" She heard Gendry whisper after she closed her eyes.

"I'm going to miss you too, Gendry. So much." She found herself whispering back.

The last Arya remembered was Gendry giving her forehead a soft, chaste kiss before she finally succumbed to sleep.

The hour finally came when it was time for the southron party to leave Winterfell along with her father.

The rest of the Stark family was out in the courtyard that morning to formally send the king, the prince and the lord of Winterfell off. Arya stood beside Bran and Sansa as they bid their goodbyes to the King. She had her hands behind her back the entire time as she was carrying something of importance that she needed to return to her prince.

Gendry followed and left his parting words with her older brothers and Theon, the interaction allowing Arya to surmise the close bond that formed between them in the months that Gendry stayed in Winterfell.

She was the very last person he approached, and she aware that he did it on purpose.

When he was already standing in front of her, he gave her a solemn yet sincere smile. The rest of her family, especially her brothers were now looking at both of them knowingly as they started exchanging their farewells.

She held his gaze as she carefully lifted both her hands and handed the bundle of cloth to him.

"Here's the cloak you lent me that day we got soaked under the rain. You see, I washed it clean all by myself, Your Grace." Arya told him before giving him a wink.

Gendry gave her his signature breathtaking smile that made his dimple visible and her knees weak.

Instead of receiving her parting present, he pressed his palm firmly on the bundle and pushed it back to her. "That's yours to keep now, my lady. You can even _use _it to keep you warm each night." Came his dangerous innuendo, giving her a wink.

Arya felt the blush spreading on her cheeks at the memory of what transpired last night, of their shared moans and unbridled pleasures.

Fuck. Just the thought of his fingers and his dirty words awakened her dormant desires.

She took the bundle back and hugged it to her chest before she met his malignant gaze. She gathered all the courage left from her to draw closer to him as she stood on tip-toes and whispered in his ear, "Oh, I'm going to use this to keep myself warm, alright. Especially whenever I bury my fingers in my cunt and pleasure myself to thoughts of you. I'm going to enjoy every single moment of it."

Gendry suddenly wrapped an arm around her waist.

To an outsider, it would seem like they were just whispering sweet nothings to each other. But little did everyone know how carnally filthy their exchange of words were.

"That's right, love. I want you to make yourself come to thoughts of me every single night. Think of only me, and no one else. Promise me that." He whispered back.

Arya slightly pulled away from his hold and looked at him mischievously, "We'll see, maybe I might think of someone else now that I now know how to pleasure myself." She teased.

Her statement made him grip her waist tighter, "You wouldn't dare! You're mine now, love. And I know that there is no one else."

Arya continued to wear her naughty face, "Only if you promise me you won't go find other girls to warm your bed at night when you go back to the capital. I'm pretty certain there'll be a lot of guests from the Free Cities by the time you arrive."

"You know you're the only one, Arya. Now that I've found you, I can't think of anyone else to replace you, love." He told her. She could read the sincerity from the way he was looking at her.

She nodded wordlessly as unwelcome thoughts suddenly flooded her thought process.

Gendry searched for her eyes, "Do you trust me?"

She fell silent for a moment as she thought of Gendry's history with other girls. And not just some random girls, but pretty, seductive girls. She knew how much he was so used to engaging in polygamous sex that for a moment, she doubted if he'd ever settle for her once he'd step foot back in the capital where temptation was within his reach.

Maybe he'd grow tired of her and realize how much he was missing with the other girls who'd be wiling to satisfy his needs sexually.

"Arya?"

His words broke her train of thoughts.

"Sorry, I was just thinking. I'm not sure how I'd react if I find out you're back to your old life of fucking multiple women at once. I know how much you enjoy it, and I'm afraid that waiting for me to arrive in King's Landing would change your mind, and—"

She felt his hand on her chin as he made her face him again, "Hey, you're overthinking. Didn't you hear what I just told you? You're the only one, Arya. I need you to trust me, please."

She finally nodded, "Alright. I trust you, Gendry." Then she added, "Anyway, it won't be my loss if I find out you're cheating on me. Just remember that."

Gendry smiled at her endearingly, "You're too adorable when you're jealous. Did you know that? Especially when you're irrationally jealous of nothing. And yes, I'll remember that. I'm scared of losing you, Arya. That's why I want you to trust me when I say that there won't be anyone else. I've remained celibate for a few months even before I met you, how much more now that we're officially engaged?"

It shut Arya up. He was right. He'd indeed been celibate after the news of their betrothal.

"Fine. Don't worry, you had me already convinced." She admitted.

She released a deep sigh before she remembered, "It's unfortunate though that you won't be with me on my name day. I'll be eight and ten in a few weeks, just so you know."

"That's all the more reason for me to look forward to seeing you in King's Landing. In that way, you'd be ripe and legal, and I can already do all the filthy things I want to do to you." He whispered deliciously.

"Shit. Don't provoke me, or else I'm going to fuck you here in the courtyard in front of everyone to see." She whispered back.

She heard him let out a short laugh. "I wouldn't want your brothers to chop my cock off, love, or else you'd lose your happiness."

Arya pulled her head back to a hearty laugh before she countered, "Oh, but you still have your tongue and fingers to satisfy me."

"Wait 'till you try my cock, Arya…" He teased.

She only scoffed in return.

They fell silent as they savored this moment to look at each other for the last time.

"Stay safe for me, okay? And write to me. Send me a raven whenever you can. I want to know your thoughts." Came Gendry's request.

"I was thinking of the same thing, actually."

"Good, so I'll see you in a few months, then. This isn't goodbye."

"I know. There won't be any goodbyes between us from now on." She promised.

The next thing she remembered was being brought into a tight embrace when Gendry wrapped his strong arms around her.

She then felt his lips kissing her forehead before he said, "I'll miss you, love."

Arya returned the sentiment by burying her face in his chest to savor his scent which has already become her favorite. "I'll miss you, too."

After the royal party departed, all of Winterfell was silent.

Everything was as it was before.

As for Arya, instead of joining the rest of her family for their midday meal at the Great Hall, she ordered the maid to send her meal to her bedchambers where she locked herself inside for the rest of the day.

She just wanted to be alone.

She needed this time to wean herself from the after-effects of Gendry Baratheon.

She needed to get used to the feeling of not having him around.

After changing back to her nightclothes, Arya threw herself back on her featherbed, her hands splayed across her sheets and her eyes darting at the ceiling.

The cloak that was once owned by Gendry was sitting right next to her. There was no doubt it would become her security blanket moving forward.

How was it even possible for someone as perfect as Gendry to exist, much less come into her life?

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to fall into another bout of restful slumber. She wanted to fall asleep because it was the only way to bring her closer to him.


End file.
